


Widowmaker's Revenge

by deadlypen1



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alexandra Oxton, Ameile has nightmares about Widowmaker, Amelie's abduction flashbacks, Augmented Sombra, Background Relationships, Betrayal, Cologne, Drunken Shenanigans, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Glasgow, Hanoi, Heterosexual Sex, Huntress Ameile, Lesbian Sex, Major Ameile angst, Mexico City, Montreal, Nuremberg, Original Character(s), Revenge, She's Lena's cousin, Siegfried Paulis, Smut, That works more than Widowtracer, lacroixton, minor ameile/hanzo, morning after fluff, reformed ameile lacroix, tags will be updated as story goes on, trigger warning for one lesbian slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 22:26:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 72,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8303453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlypen1/pseuds/deadlypen1
Summary: Amelie Lacroix may no longer be Widowmaker, but not all the Widowmaker has left her. At the behest of a fellow ex-Talon agent, she goes out to find and kill the remaining people responsible for turning her into Widowmaker. But like anything involving Talon, nothing is as it seems.





	1. One Little Victory

**Author's Note:**

> Previously on Deadlypen's Overwatch canon:
> 
> The recalled Overwatch managed to topple Talon, kill Gabriel Reyes, and get reinstated as the U.N.'s main peacekeeping force. In the process, they captured Widowmaker and turned her back into Ameile Lacroix. Through uncertainties and mental problems, she is now part of the Overwatch team.
> 
> During a girl's trip to Paris, Ameile meets Siegfried Paulis, a former Talon agent who claims to be tracking down other Talon agents and killing them. He invites Ameile to join him and to make this an Overwatch matter.
> 
> A few other notes: This version of Ameile has, for the most part, gotten used to her normal self. She doesn't have blue skin, changed her tattoos, and is capable of proper emotions.
> 
> The chapter titles are mostly going to be named after songs from the Rush album "Vapor Trails." It very much deals with loss, trying to move on, depression, that kind of thing. 
> 
> Special props to ao3 username hot4nialler for coming up with Ameile's Overwatch callsign, "Huntress"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ameile finds the first target of her revenge in Cologne, Germany.

Lukas Hase sat on a high-rise table with his 3 friends. It was their usual spot at the local brauhaus, and they were all deep into their third tall glass of Kolner beer, quickly spewing out what they thought of FC Koln in German.

“I’m telling, I’m telling you,” one of the friends named Nickolaus went on. “When this new guy Falcao gets on the team, Koln will be unstoppable.”

“You’re so wrong!” Gerd responded. “The Uruguayans haven’t played respectably since the First Crisis.”

“He’s turning it around, and we’ll reap the benefits. We’ll certainly be better than Dortmund I’ll tell you that much.”

“But can he score?” Lukas brought up, the one holding his alcohol the most. “Because that’s why we bought the guy. To have a goal-scorer.”

“Ooooh, the brain surgeon here thinks scoring is everything in football.”

“Again, I just study the brain. I don’t do surgeries.”

“What about you Rolf? You’ve done business in Uruguay, seen the proud Uruguayans play. What do you make of this?”

“Well Uruguay is still devastated from the crisis,” Rolf explained. “The Omnics really did a number on South America. Small wonder they’re concerned more with rebuilding than producing good footballers. So any good player that does come up is like a godsend.”

“See here Lukas? We’ll have the whole country on our side. A nation of Koln fans. Brings a tear to my eye.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lukas said bitterly, getting up from the table. “Uruguay is only one city anyway. This has been fun, but I should get going.”

“Oh no,” Gerd continued rambling on. “Someone’s afraid to test himself.”

“I at least like to keep my brain cells, since they’re my profession.” 

“You still on to go to the Frankfurt game?” Nickolaus asked.

“Save a ticket for me. It really depends on work. See you then.”

Lukas walked from the brauhaus to the nearest S-Bahn station, riding that until he reached the Humboldt-Gremberg district. Sobbering up a bit from the ride, he walked from the station to his apartment building, one of the last original rises not cleared out for some new stainless steel or glass building. He fumbled in his pockets finding the right key to open the front door.

Lukas walked the steps up the ramshackle building to his apartment on the third floor. The stairs creaked, as usual. Need to tell the landlord to fix that, he thought. Lukas’ room was at the end of a hallway, with an unassuming crème colored door. He had a habit of knocking before going inside, even if he knew no one would be there.

“Step into my parlor,” a voice on the other side called out.

Lukas immediately filled with panic. Who could be in there? The voice was soft, feminine, and very French. He was sure it wasn’t the alcohol getting to him, so someone must be trying to rob him.

Lukas opened and got a quick look inside. In the darkness, with the help of some reflected light shining in from the window, he could see someone lounging in the desk chair. He also noticed glass from the window lying on the floor.

“What are you doing? Get out of here or I’ll call the police,” was all Lukas could muster before turning on the lights. The figure in the room revealed itself as a woman dressed in all black, apart from a flip-up translucent visor resting on top of her head, holding a colored rifle. Her boots ran all the way up her calves. She had full holsters wrapped around her wide waist. She adorned black gloves perfectly fitting her long fingers. Her black turtleneck and pants accentuated her bodily features. And her black hair hung lose, draping across her back and front.

“What good would that do? I am the police,” the woman rose, showing herself to be much taller than Lukas.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“Don’t you recognize the face of your creation?”

Lukas finally put it together after a few moments, considering the visor and the rifle she was holding, a pristine combination of yellow and blue, with the Overwatch logo placed beneath the scope. It looked as if it had the capability for both sniping and close range. And the woman's French accent.

“Widowmaker?” Lukas muttered.

“Oh, now you remember. But sadly, I’m just Ameile Lacroix again.”

“How did you find me? How do you even know who I am?”

“A fellow former Talon colleague gave me the names of everyone alive and walking free who turned me into that bitch. And lucky you, you’re the first one on that list.”

“This is breaking and entering. I see you’re with Overwatch now. They’ll discipline you for this.”

“Overwatch has been chasing runts like you all over the world since Talon fell. They won’t have a problem with one ex-terrorist.”

“Please, I haven’t done anything like that in years! I left before Overwatch started attacking them again! I’ve been trying to amend things!”

“Let’s go over the evidence presented here. Lukas Hase. A Talon scientist specializing in the human brain. Trying to figure how to manipulate certain parts to create more effective, deadly soldiers,”

“Yes that’s all true, but I swear I’m doing good now,”

“You’ll speak up when I tell you to!” Ameile shouted grabbing Lukas by his shirt and throwing him on the bed. Fear continued to build inside of him. “When one day, Talon asked you to put all that knowledge of the brain to practical use. Brainwash one of their hostages to turn her into a super-soldier for the purpose of killing her husband. You were good, I’ll admit that, but Overwatch has people of their own.”

“How did you break the conditioning? The safeguards I put in your brain,”

“What did I say?” Ameile raised her voice again, slapping Lukas with enough force to keep him down on the bed. “I already said Overwatch has better people than Talon.” 

“You’re here to kill me? That’s it?”

“Obviously. But before I do, I want to make you understand some things about what you put me through.” 

“Ameile, everyone at Talon did horrible things. I’m guilty of that, I know.”

“No! You don’t understand! You Talon scum willingly joined. You wanted to harm people and cause chaos. Not me. I suffered as their labrat for nearly 10 years! All that time I’ll never get back. Time I’ll never spend with Gerard or anyone I cared about.”

“You had no complaints when I was done.”

Ameile endured the interruptions Lukas made to undercut her train of thought. But with that last one, it sent Ameile nearly over the edge. She pulled a pistol out of a holster and pushed into the German’s forehead.

“I ought to kill you right now!” Ameile shouted, before collecting herself to return to her routine, pulling the gun away. “But there would be no satisfaction. You haven’t understood yet.”

“Ameile, I don’t know what more I can possibly say. I was just following my orders. I had no choice!”

“Let me tell you a scenario I want you to play in your head. Close your eyes.”

“No. You’ll just kill me when I’m not looking.”

“I’ll kill you right now if you don’t close them!”

Lukas obeyed, closing his eyes, but raising his fists, at least willing to put up a fight if anything happens. Ameile sat on the bed across from him, putting her pistol away.

“Do you have a partner or lover?” Ameile asked. “Anyone you care about very deeply?”

“I’m divorced. My wife left me six years ago.”

“Well, . . imagine if you’re still married. You and your wife live happily together. You’re in your career of neuroscience while your wife; let’s imagine she’s a soldier. And this soldier made some very powerful enemies. But in return, she is too powerful to be stopped on her own. So instead of killing her, they target you instead.” 

Ameile reached out to grab Lukas by the arms. He flails them, trying to break free, but Ameile’s fingernails dig into his skin, refusing to let go. “They kidnap you. Torture you. Try to break you. Turn you into a weapon for the purpose of killing your wife. Do you understand now? Having no control in killing the one you love? Could your mind handle that?”

“Ameile,” Lukas mumbled in panic, “I was only following orders. Same as you.”

“Do you want to know what happened when your conditioning did break? When my skin came back to this shade and my memories returned? I immediately thought of those I killed. And I panicked. I even thought about killing myself with the weight of all the bad I’ve done. Even with all the help I got along the way, I still think I’ll never fully recover. But at least I can take solace in this. Open up your eyes.”

Lukas couldn’t feel the grip anymore, so he opened his eyes as ordered, thinking that maybe, something had changed. What he saw was Ameile standing over him on the bed, her head only a few inches from the ceiling. She was aiming the pistol right at his head again.

“In these last few moments of your life, I want you to think about everyone who died as a result of your actions. And I want you to think about me. About the life you robbed me of. Can you do that?”

Lukas just nodded, staring up at Ameile’s face, too terrified to break eye contact.

“One last thing I want you to do for me. Tell all your Talon friends in hell that Ameile Lacroix is back.”

With that last statement, Ameile pulled the trigger of her pistol, the bullet penetrating Luka’s forehead. Blood and brains splattered on the pillows and bedframe as the body lay limp. 

Ameile quickly dropped the pistol, jumped off the bed, and rushed for the bag she brought and unzipped. She grabbed a small plastic cylinder and opened it, reaching for one of the pills inside, the medication she had to take. When Ameile first went on Overwatch missions as a member, she constantly suffered from mental episodes by the end of the missions, manly involving Widowmaker memories. As part of her ongoing rehabilitation, Angela developed a medication to help suppress any stress. It certainly helped now. 

Ameile went to work staging the cover-up for her act. Lukas’ body would remain where it was, no need changing that. She took the pistol and ran the dead man’s right hand all over it, getting plenty of fingerprints from him and only him. She placed the gun beside the hand, setting up a simulation of suicide. The pieces of glass lying on the floor had to go too, so Ameile gathered them and tossed them out of the window. There was only the sound of glass breaking when it hit the ground. At least they didn’t hit anyone.

The window was next to a fire escape leading to a back alley. She had no problem sneaking in here, and she wouldn’t have any trouble leaving. After disassembling her rifle, removing her visor and belt accessories, taking off her gloves, and storing the contents inside the bag, Ameile left the way she came in. She crawled out the broken hole and climbed down the fire escape. No one had seen her get away, but no doubt someone else in the building heard the gunshot. Right now, she didn’t care about that detail. It was part of the staged suicide. 

It was going to be a long walk to the Cologne train station. 2 miles at least. Need to get going lest she miss her train. 

Ameile recalled the times Gerard took her to Germany, mainly on Overwatch business in Berlin. She got the same feel here, though the more industrialized cityscape left the traditional German structures by the wayside. The feeling came from the smells of bratwurst and sauerkraut from all-night restaurants and from whatever German she could hear passerby’s speaking in. Considering how much Reinhardt was going on about taking the team to the next Oktoberfest in Munich, along with Siegfried, who she longed to see again, Ameile figured to herself this is something she would have to get used to.

Making her way through the Deutz district, passing by the city’s hockey arena, Ameile got the feeling she was being followed. She didn’t know anyone in this city. She did her job, and wanted to move on. What could anyone want with her? Did they know she just murdered someone? Ameile turned to look behind her and indeed, there were two people following her. But it wasn’t any armed men she fears it would be. Instead, it was two girls, no more than teenagers, giddy with excitement.

“Sehen? Ich sagte dir es ist sie!” (See? I told you it’s her!) one of them said. Ameile wasn’t fluent in German, but did know enough to make out how excited they were to see her.

“Sprichst du Englisch?” (Do you speak English?) Ameile replied, her French accent not complimenting the German phrase well.

“Oh yes, of course,” the same girl said, still trying to contain herself. “We saw you walking by the restaurant we were eating at a few blocks ago and Agatha here swore that it was Huntress.”

“Well I was right, wasn’t I?” Agatha said.

Ameile still hadn’t gotten used to how Overwatch members were worldwide celebrities in the public’s eyes. True, Gerard had to deal with the matter all the time, but she hardly found herself in that position. Even the recognition she got as a ballet dancer was nothing compared to what Overwatch got. It was odd, being recognized as a soldier. How did Lena, Angela, Winston, everyone deal with this so much? 

“So you’re fans of my work then?” Ameile asked.

“Yes, we’re very gay for you,” Agatha told her.

“Um, thanks,” Ameile wasn’t sure how to take that.

“We think it’s about time Overwatch finally got some attractive women out in the field,” Agatha continued on. “Mercy only does medical work, we hardly know what Pharah’s body is like under that suit of hers, and we really don’t like Tracer’s voice. But oh, this beautiful, full, French woman who can snipe? We’re down with that!”

Despite the adoration, Ameile started getting restless. These kids better not make her late for her train.

“What do you want? An autograph or something?” Ameile said eager to get this over with.

“We want a picture with you, me and Frieda here,” Agatha offered, pulling out her phone.

“Okay, make it quick. I have to catch a train,” Ameile responded, not seeing the harm. If Lena could mingle with the public so easily, why shouldn’t she as well? Agatha and Frieda leaned against Ameile, with Agatha holding her phone up in the air. They made open-mouthed smiles and pointed their thumbs at the woman behind them. Ameile just gave a smirk, thinking the matter was silly. But hey, if it makes these people happy.

“And we’re good,” Agatha said, her and Frieda bunching up to see if their photo was okay. “Thank you Huntress! What’s in that bag of yours?”

“Intel equipment,” Ameile lied, having thought this out beforehand. “I’m here to investigate ex-Talon splinter group activity.”

“Oh really? Did you find anything?” Frieda asked.

“I didn’t. No need to worry. Cologne is safe. I really have to catch a train back to headquarters now. It was nice meeting you,” Ameile rushed to say, starting to walk away from the two girls. 

“You too Huntress. Keep on kicking ass!” Frieda and Agatha both called out, still giggling to themselves how they met an Overwatch agent.

Ameile reached a pedestrian bridge crossing the Rhine, seeing the station and the famous Kolner Dom on the other side. The Gothic cathedral was lit with yellow lights, making it an intimidating presence looking on from the Rhine. Maybe that place is still open, Ameile thought. Do I have time to pray? She ultimately decided against it, prioritizing making it to the station. A mental note was made to pray later.

The station as Ameile arrived was moderately populated. People were mainly getting on and off the U-Bahn, making their way home for the night. Some were gathered at the all-night café trying to get something to stay awake. Ameile couldn’t be bothered with people-watching for long. She headed straight for the main gate, pulled out her crumpled-up train ticket from her pocket, presented it to the teller in a booth, and was told her train would be at platform 5, and it would arrive shortly.

Ameile reached the platform, with few others waiting for the train as well. The glass ceiling above her provided a view of the cathedral’s towers. Whatever’s inside there, Ameile thought, traditional Christianity, the Iris, or something else, let that forgive me for what I did tonight. Something that needed to be done. Something to let these demons rest at last. Her thoughts were cut short by an announcement overhead.

“Plattform fünf. Der Zug nach Madrid kommt.” (Platform 5. The train to Madrid is arriving.)

Sure enough, the white and red-striped train entered the station, mostly full in the first two cars with travelers from Berlin. Ameile stepped into the fourth car, trying to avoid sitting next to anyone else. Ameile found a group of 4 seats facing each other, with enough room to let her bag rest beside her and to stretch her legs out. No one else in the car sat by her, making her relaxing all the more easy. In 6 hours, most of that time in her sleep, she would arrive in Madrid, where she would change trains en route to Gibraltar. By late morning, she would be back at the headquarters. Hopefully few would bother inquiring about her business more than they had.

Ameile pulled out her phone waiting for the train to leave. She started texting Siegfried, unaware if he was still awake at this hour.

Ameile: Lukas Hase is taken care of. Cross that name off your list. 

She was surprised that the response came so quickly, less than a minute later.

Siegfried: Good to know. Were you caught?

Ameile: No one saw me. People will think it was suicide.

Siegfried: Ok. Take a few days to your own. I’ll let you know about next target. :)

Ameile: ;) 

Ameile put the phone back in her pocket, trying to ease herself into sleep. The overhead speakers came on, with an announcement to make. “Sehr geehrte Damen und Herren, der Zug fährt ab. Diese Linie endet in Madrid ab, mit Zwischenstationen in Brüssel, Paris, Lyon, Marseille und Barcelona. Entspannen und genießen Sie die Fahrt.” (Ladies and gentlemen, the train is about to depart. This line terminates in Madrid, with intermediate stops in Brussels, Paris, Lyon, Marseille and Barcelona. Relax and enjoy the ride.)

With the train leaving the station, Ameile felt her phone vibrating. Upon pulling it out, she saw Lena’s name. It was half past 12. Why was she doing calling this time of night? Ameile told Lena earlier she would be in Cologne taking care of something, without going into too much detail, and would be fine. Still, she at least liked to hear the Brit's voice, unlike the German girls from earlier. It grew on her since they became best friends.

“Salut Lena, what is it?”

“Just wondering when you’re gonna be back, love. You missed the mission briefing.”

“I imagine my task is the same as every mission.”

“Winston said he’s going to have a one-on-one with you about this.”

“What for? I just provide sniper support. Get on the rooftops and fire.”

“But you don’t know where you’ll be positioned, where to go, how to get around.”

“Need I remind you how skilled I am at jumping rooftops? Not to mention Satya’s teleporters. Why’s Winston so acted up?”

“This is our biggest lead on Sombra since Talon fell. He just wants everything to be perfect, you know? Nip any Talon resurgence in the bud.”

“Look Lena, I’m on a train going back to Gibraltar right now. And I’m really tired. Can we talk about it when I get back?”

“No problem. Just letting you know you’re gonna be in for it.”

“When am I not, with all the stupidity you drag me into?”

“You know we need to be conscious of new recruits with peanut allergies!”

“Hiding the peanut butter is not how to do that!”

Lena was just giggling on the other side, and Ameile followed. She liked putting Ameile in embarrassing situations, like hiding all the peanut butter from Winston. Whether it was new agent hazing or just friends being friends, the two definitely got their kicks out of it.

“Sometimes Lena, I wish you did kill me so I wouldn’t deal with your foolishness.”

“Come on, you know you like it.”

Ameile really did like the time she spent with Lena. The only downside was that they met under such bizarre circumstances. It isn’t often that two people that first meet trying to kill each other end up being best friends. As Jack could attest, it’s usually the other way around. Still, Ameile was grateful Lena was by her side, the Brit managing to get past the Widowmaker aspects Ameile wouldn’t expect anyone to overlook.

“Lena, Lena curzzzzz. Oh no the signal is cutting out curzzzzzzzzz. The German countryside has no reception.”

“We both know you’re not getting out of talking to me that easily.”

“Lena, I have a long train ride back, and I’d like to get some sleep.”

“Okay, you go on to sleepytime junction then. See ya in the morning love.”

“Adieu Lena. See you tomorrow,” Ameile finished as she hung up. Upon turning the volume of her phone off and putting it back in her pocket, Ameile reclined her seat back, once again attempting to fall to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack:
> 
> Came Back Haunted - Nine Inch Nails  
> One Little Victory - Rush


	2. Ceiling Unlimited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Overwatch team investigates a lead on Sombra's operations in Hanoi, Vietnam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't about revenge, but moreso about Ameile being part of the Overwatch team.

Why did I have to get stuck on the roofs here? Ameile thought, sweating profusely. The sun beating down wasn’t doing any favors, and the humidity was simply unforgiving. It was of the few times she regretted having a fully covering, standard Overwatch uniform made for her. The dark blue fabric of her suit was absorbing the sunlight as much as her black ponytailed hair. The shoulder armor bearing the Overwatch logo was impractical for someone who rarely got in close combat. The orange-yellow lining the various seams was there mainly to break-up the blue monotony. Her translucent visor for infrared vision, target aiming, and other functions was at least more practical and less showy than her old 7-lensed one. 

Maybe this was Winston’s way of getting back at me, Ameile continued to think. Strand me on the roofs of Hanoi. That’ll show you for missing briefings and hiding the peanut butter.

The hum of Satya’s teleporter next to her filled the void of silence when the sounds of the street below didn’t. Looking through the rifle’s scope, she saw Lena, Lucio, and Genji in position, sitting on a café table along the Ba Trieu Boulevard. They were all sporting variants of new Overwatch uniforms. These designs were supposedly chosen for blending in with the crowds, though some begged to differ. Lucio wasn’t allowed to wear anything bearing his music iconography, so aside from his metal leg coverings and hover roller blades, he wore a green long-sleeved undershirt with a blue and yellow chestplate. Genji wore orange armor. It was what he felt like today, since he had armor made in all colors. Lena wore a new set of blue goggles, her bomber jacket covering a new set of torso armor for the chronal accelerator, and neon blue leggings.

“Je te vois,” (I see you) Ameile said in a jokingly seductive way.

“Ameile, we can hear you perfectly fine,” Lena replied on her earpiece, looking at the rooftops down the street trying to find the sniper. “You’re lucky we can’t see you.”

“No one can hide from the Huntress,” Ameile continued, giggling to herself at the end.

“Best use your sights to see if the targets are near,” Genji said seriously, looking out into the streets.

“They’re not due for a while. Besides, it gets lonely up here. I need some conversation.”

“About what?” Lena asked.

“Anything normal. Just don’t raise suspicion. Satya, are all the teleporters ready?”

“Yes they are,” Satya replied. “I’m making my way back to the airship now. Just remember the teleporters are designed to into in a set order. When you go through one, it will disintegrate back into the light that made it.”

“Yes I remember. I thought you’d be more worried about that boyfriend of yours. He better not blow anything wrong up.”

“Jamie and I are still not that serious!”

“Have you kissed him more than once?”

“I already explained the circumstances to you!”

“Have you gone on romantic getaways?” Lucio chimed in.

“I wouldn’t consider driving through the outback or going to a cricket game particularly romantic.”

“Have you two shagged?” Lena blurted out.

There was a pause of a few seconds before Satya gave her answer. “Maybe.”

“Yep, that’s a boyfriend alright,” Genji told everyone. “No wonder they were brought along for this.”

“Jamie and Mako just want to see everyone again and be a part of a mission. This is the closest we’ve been to Australia in a while.”

“If that’s what they wanted, they could’ve joined Overwatch when we offered.”

“Believe me, I tried convincing them many times. They’re too loyal to their junker friends to abandon them like that.”

“What about you Lucio, you loverboy?” Ameile directed at the Brazilian. “Things still hot and heavy with Hana?”

“Ameile , O que a Hana e eu fazemos não é da sua conta,” (what I do with Hana is none of your business) Lucio said, switching to Portuguese to try and throw her off.

“Eu conto primeiro se você contar depois,” (I’ll tell you mine first if you do yours after) Ameile retorted in Portuguese, leaving the rest of the listeners stunned, though Ameile was confused at why everyone suddenly stopped talking “What? Portuguese and French have common linguistic roots.”

“Okay,” Lucio said, trying to regain himself. “Go right on ahead.”

“You already know Siegfried and I met in Paris during that girl’s weekend of ours. In the time we’ve been talking since, I honestly think I could be in love for the first time in a long time. What’s the saying? Birds of a feather flock together?”

“Someone’s clearly in the honeymoon phase,” Genji pointed out. “Just give it a few months and all his really dark secrets will come out.”

“Said the playboy wearing an Omnic suit to stay alive. I already know his past. Are you even able to make love since you were put in that tuna can?”

“Of course. I’m still human.”

“With who then?”

“All I’ll say is it was during my first time with Overwatch with a team member.”

“Oh yeah? Care to gave a name?”

“Just guess.”

“It wasn’t Lena, was it?”

“Oi! I would’ve told you that!” Lena shouted in her earpiece, hearing Ameile giggle to herself. 

After thinking briefly about who could have possibly been around him when his armor was adopted, Ameile blurted out the first name that came to her mind, from what little she knew about Genji’s history. “Angela?”

Genji’s helmet may have hid his scarred face, but the way he stretched his arms behind his head could only give way to a smirk beneath the armor.

“Angela? Really? Nooo!”

“What can I say? Dr. Ziegler has a thing for charming patients. You know Ameile, if things don’t work with Siegfried, you should give my brother a call. He’s been asking how you’ve been since you last saw each other.”

“Wait,” Lucio silenced everyone. “I think I see the targets.”

“Where?” Ameile quickly responded, turning the infrared and tracking options on her visor on, her vision turning red.

“They’re sitting down a few tables away from us to our right. One of them has a briefcase.”

Ameile looked in the direction Lucio pointed out. Sure enough there was a group of 2 Vietnamese men, an African woman, and a Punjabi man. One of the Vietnamese had a briefcase that he opened.

Ameile turned on the visor’s facial recognition capabilities. After a few scans of the table, the names and faces of Trai Tran, Thuan Nguyen, Mthunzi Dominic, and Sangram Kuliar came up.

“Positive matches on all of them,” Ameile said to the group. “Can anyone make out what they’re saying?”

“My Vietnamese is a bit rusty, but I can try,” Genji offered. After what only the other two could assume was settings adjustment, Genji concentrated, trying to hear the conversation happening a few tables over. Vietnamese wasn’t the only language spoken, but the ninja could make out enough. 

“Something about corporations, hacking secrets, more information to follow, and meeting at another hideout,” Genji relayed. “Sorry I can’t make out more.”

“Can we get this show on the road?” Lucio eagerly said, his hand gripping his sonic amplifier.

“Just don’t go too fast,” Ameile replied. “I need to keep up with you three.”

With that confirming statement, Lena, Lucio, and Genji stood up and walked over to the other table, Ameile watching along through her scope. Lena took the lead, standing in front of the other two as they confronted the four suspects at their table.

“That’s some interesting talk you got going. And what’s with these documents you have,” Lena said rifling through the paper, making the table messy. “Vishkar, Lumerico, and Volskya? Looks like someone’s been busy hacking.”

“I’m sorry,” Nguyen spoke for the four at the table, “did we do something wrong?”

“You four are under arrest for suspected terrorist activities,” Lena proclaimed pulling out her pistols. “If you just come with us, no harm will come to you.”

“When is it a crime to meet out in the open to discuss business?” Dominic asked.

“If you have nothing to hide, come with us peacefully so we can ask you some questions.”

“These are legitimate dealings we’re working on here,” Kuliar tried explaining, desperate to get the agents to leave them alone.

Hearing the conversation happen, Ameile called back to the airship, “Satya, do you buy any of this?”

“Vishkar keeps losing Central American and Caribbean deals to Lumerico,” Satya explained, “So I highly doubt there are any contracts between them in the works.” 

“We have reason to believe you got these files because of Sombra, and are past associates of hers” Lena continued.

“Sombra, you say?” Nguyen replied somewhat devilishly. At that point, the sounds of motorbikes in the distance started to get closer. The drivers were aiming right for the three agents, holding guns ready to fire. Lena was the first one to notice, so she grabbed Genji and Lucio by the shoulders and blinked backwards across the street. They landed on their asses, the weight of having two others blink along with her briefly made Lena short-winded. As the crowds started fleeing from the motorbikers, more Vietnamese men with guns emerged, wearing street clothes and sunglasses, aiming at the agents. The four suspects mounted some of the bikes, now in control of the driver’s firearms.

“Drive, drive!” the suspects yelled to their drivers, speeding off down the boulevard, heading North.

“Oh no you don’t” Lucio shouted, starting to give chase. Lena was prepared to follow, but didn’t want to leave Genji behind.

“Go! I can handle myself!” Genji urged, his katana ready to strike anyone who came too close. Lena acknowledged and blinked off to follow Lucio.

“Come on, try me!” Genji dared the men with guns, twirling the sword in one hand while getting ready to unload shuriken with the other. With a few shouts in Vietnamese, mostly unintelligible due to the shouting from the surrounding crowds, the guns started unloading fire. They never reached their target, since Genji’s perfectly timed sword deflections and jumping made every single one miss. Instead, the bullets killed half the gunmen.

“I was expecting a challenge,” Genji mocked, landing on the roof of a car.

As the remaining gunmen reloaded their weapons, cracks could be heard overhead as the gunmen fell one by one, looking up into the sky to see where it came from. The Huntress was busy at work saving her comrade. The shooters never found their source, since Genji took out the last few with his shuriken.

“I could’ve handled that on my own,” Genji told his helper over his receiver.

“What use is having a woman who doesn’t miss if she can’t help?” Ameile replied. “Now go after Lena and Lucio!”

Genji complied and ran off in their direction, the surrounding crowds quickly getting out of the way.

“Satya, I’m going through the first teleporter now,” Ameile said slinging her rifle over her back.

“Copy,” Satya replied. “You should end up on top of a building on Hoa Ma road.”

“Got it,” Ameile said preparing the run through the blue oval. These teleporters were ofgreat use for the sniper, allowing for quicker mobility than her grappling hook ever could on it’s own. She even requested the still part-time Vishkar employee to make more portable versions so she didn’t have to constantly set them up beforehand. Satya had yet to get back to her on the matter.

Ameile charged at the blue and emerged on a different rooftop on the other side. Over the edge, she could see the motorbikes about to pass her building, with the targets unloading ammo at Lucio and Lena, returning fire not that far behind. The sniper pulled the rifle from her back and looked through the scope down below. Instead of aiming for the bodies, she aimed for the front tire of Tran’s bike. It was going at least 30 mph, so she needed to be precise. After coming to a conclusion on where to aim, she fired. Upon the bullet reaching it’s target, the front tire blew out, causing the bike to flip over, no doubt causing massive injury to the riders. Lena and Lucio passed by the downed persons, still in chase. When Genji reached the scene, he made sure the two stayed down by digging some shuriken into their open wounds.

“Get some of the recruits down there to pick those guys up,” Ameile ordered Satya. “I’m going through the teleporter again” 

“You’ll end up on Hang Bai street,” Satya clarified.

“Got it,” Ameile responded already running towards the machine. On the other side, instead of a roof, she was on the top floor or a partly constructed building. There was an open balcony slightly jutting out of the structure with ceramic decorations keeping people inside. When Ameile looked out below, she just saw Lena and Lucio pass by the nearest intersection. No doubt the targets were still ahead of them as well. 

“Merde (shit), I just missed them,” Ameile shouted in anger. She immediately thought of ideas of how to reach them. The teleporter may no longer send her to the right spot. Getting up to the rooftop and running across them would take too much time. She needed something fast and urgent. Ameile did come up with an idea, a stupid one in her eyes, but this was desperate measures.

“Satya, I can’t believe I’m asking this, but did Junkrat and Roadhog bring a ride with them?”

“They told me they have a motorcycle with them.”

“That will do. Tell them to meet me at my position.”

“They should arrive shortly.”

Ameile walked out to the balcony, latching the end of her grappling hook to the edge of the plaster floor. She wasn’t sure if it could support her weight, but time was of the essence. Standing on the edge, after taking a few deep breaths, Ameile jumped off the side, bringing her body weight close to the side of the building until her feet. Slowly, the sniper continued heading downward. She had done plenty of repelling like this on Talon missions; this would be no different.

Then, with about 30 feet or so left until the ground, Ameile felt the line stiffen. She ran out of slack and was now dangling on the side of this building by her wrist. Like a spider who forgot to weave a web. No, Ameile thought. Don’t think about spiders. Spiders always lead back to Widowmaker. Just maintain yourself. Those junkers should get here soon or else my arm will get pulled out.

A rumbling could be heard down the street. Ameile looked over her right shoulder to see if it’s who she thought it was. Mako drove a vintage-looking brown and green striped motorcycle with metal spikes in the front looking like boar tusks. Jamie was lounging in the sidecar, his peg leg dangling in front, no doubt scratching the metallic shine. The cycle pulled up onto the sidewalk next to the building, with the junkers taking a good look at the dangling woman before offering assistance.

“Oi, Huntress!” Jamie shouted from below. “What are you hanging up there for?”

“Waiting for you of course,” Ameile shouted back. “I’m going to let go on the count of three and I need you to catch me.”

“Roadie, that’s all on you,” Jamie directed, backing away as Mako positioned himself underneath Ameile’s body, holding his arms out.

Ameile closed her eyes as she counted down to herself. “1. . . .2. . . 3.” As she said three, she pressed a button on her left arm, releasing the grappling hook, and falling onto the street below. After a few seconds, Ameile landed in Mako’s meaty arms, slightly winded from the fall.

“You okay?” Mako asked.

“I’m fine, merci,” Ameile said standing up, quickly making her way to the motorcycle. She sat in the sidecar while Mako sat on the bike, preparing to turn it on. Jamie, in a new position, stood on what little seat space behind Mako there was.

“So, where do we need to go?” Jamie asked loading up his grenade launcher. 

“East,” Ameile gave her orders. “The targets are heading towards the Red River. We need to cut them off there.”

“Alright Roadie, rev it up!”

Mako pushed the appropriate switches and the motors inside the vehicle came to life. When they reached a proper hum, the obese Australian revved on the handlebars and they lurched forward towards the nearest boulevard, Jamie almost initially flying off.

“You know,” Ameile shouted at the two of them over the sound of the engine. “You don’t have to call me Huntress. We know each other well enough for first names.”

“I thought you Overwatch people liked your codenames,” Jamie replied. “Made you sound more professional.”

“Genji, Lucio, and Winston don’t have callsigns.”

“They seem too high and mighty for that sort of thing.”

Ameile thought she could smell something rotten. She initially thought it was some pungent street food from one of the many stands they passed, but she realized it stayed the same as they kept their speed. It must come from the junkers, who either forgot to shower or had some other bodily functions going on, or the ancient engines being used. Either way, Ameile was repulsed.

“Mon Dieu! (My God!),” Ameile cursed at the two. “How does Satya deal with your filth?”

“Oh she’s gotten used to it. I’m not the only dirty one in our relationship anyway.”

“Tais-toi,” (Shut up) Ameile urged Jamie to stop, trying to avoid making mental images of Jamie and Satya having sex. “Hold on, I think I see them ahead,” she said adjusting her visor setting appropriately. A few hundred feet ahead of them, with the Vietnamese crowds continuing to disperse, Lucio, Genji and Lena were still on the trail of the last two motorbikes, hardly looking tired at all.

“That’s them. Please don’t destroy too much,” Ameile ordered.

“Bomb’s away,” Jamie shouted starting to launch his grenades up ahead. They exploded once they reached the ground, but didn’t get far enough ahead to the motorbikes. Some did end up destroying parked cars instead. Lena, Genji and Lucio were actively dodging the explosives when they noticed them raining down.

“Stop that! For God’s sake I can aim better than you!” Ameile scolded Jamie.

“Oh yeah?” Jamie continued to launch more grenades, missing, “What are you gonna do?”

“This,” Ameile said looking down her rifle’s scope. She had a clear view of the rear wheel of Dominic’s bike, but needed some stability to make sure her shot was straight. 

“Stop weaving, I need to line up the shot,” Ameile shouted. Mako silently obeyed, positioning Ameile perfectly enough for her to fire. Ameile took the shot, blowing out the rear tire. Dominic’s bike skidded out, with her and the driver rolling on the road to a stop. She quickly did the same with Kuliar’s bike, blowing out the back tire so it would skid and spin to a halt. Lucio stopped beside them making sure they didn’t go anywhere, with Lena, Genji, and the motorcycle running past.

The last motorbike reached the edge of the Red River, coming to a stop. Nguyen cursed at his driver for stopping, wasting time as the Overwatch agents caught up to them.

“If you just tell us where Sombra is and come quietly,” Lena said approaching Nguyen, “no harm will come to you.”

“You don’t get it don’t you? She can be anywhere!” Nguyen shouted in panic. “She can be in this city, she can be in Lima for all I know!”

“Well this guy isn’t helpful,” Jamie declared before shooting a grenade at the bike. Lena blinked ahead to get Nguyen out of the way, a safe distance away from when the bike exploded.

“The hell are you doing?” Ameile scolded him. “We need these people alive.”

“Well excuse me, I thought he was fair game.”

“Now look here,” Lena made her demands, aiming a pistol at the suspect while on top of him. “We know Sombra has one of her hideouts here. And you’re going to tell us where it is or, let’s just say, I won’t save you from the next bomb.”

“Okay, okay,” Nguyen relented. “It’s back to the East in the Royal City. In the basement of an abandoned mall along the Song To Lich river.” 

“See how easy that was? Now that you cooperated, we get to be nice now.” Lena then directed her attention to speaking on her earpiece. “Satya, send some recruits to any abandoned malls in the Royal City along the Song To Lich river.”

“Roger,” Satya replied. “Do you need a pickup?”

“I think we can manage.”

The bodies of the three suspects were loaded up on Mako’s motorcycle and proceeded slowly so they were always in someone’s eyesight. When they reached the dropship, parked a few miles south from where the chase started, they saw the new recruits carrying the last suspect and what appeared to be several rooms’ worth of computer banks. Satya greeted them as they returned, mainly by giving Jamie a hug and kiss when they see each other. 

“What do we have here?” Lena asked, her attention directed at the many computers.

“This was everything we found at the location you gave us,” Satya replied, leading them onto the ship. The metal boxes were quickly filling up the storage rooms. “It’s a treasure trove of intel we got here. We should be able to figure out where Sombra is, what her plans are, and where the other splinter groups are.”

“So she wasn’t here at all then?”

“The recruits are saying they just found an Omnic body there lying dead hooked up to one of the banks. Seem like Sombra’s typical means of escape. If it wouldn’t be too much a hassle, I request these prisoners be taken to the Kolkata base. I’m sure Vishkar has particular interest in them.”

“Can do.”

“Hey Satya,” Jamie called out, still waiting outside. “If you’re all done here, me and Roadie are gonna head out.”

“Jamie, you just got here,” Satya pleaded. “At least stay with the team a while longer.”

“Oh we’re not heading back home yet. There has to be some good souvenirs here.”

“How did you two even get here?” Genji asked the two ruffians.

“Oh, you think junkers don’t know how to fly ships like this one?”

“Well, if you staying here,” Satya told Jamie, “at least don’t steal anything.”

“Come on Sheila, you know I hardly get to leave the outback anymore.”

“If you steal something, rest assured, I will find out about it,” Satya warmly threatened, before giving him one last kiss before boarding the ship again, ready to leave.”

As the ship took off, Ameile could feel vibrations coming from her bag underneath her seat. She unzipped it, dug through it, and picked up her phone. Her heart filled with delight when she saw Siegfried’s name. She eagerly took off her visor to better listen to her boyfriend’s voice.

“Siegfried, mon beau (beautiful one)!

“Ameile, liebling (darling), how did your mission go?”

“We caught our targets, though Sombra got away again. If you see anything about property damage in Hanoi, that wasn’t our fault.”

“What do you mean property damage? I thought this was just a simple extraction thing.”

“Well Symmetra decided to bring in some hired help.”

“Hired help? You mean those Australians you told me about?”

“They did their part, though a bit too well.”

“Anyways, I’m calling because I have another target for you.”

Upon hearing that, Ameile’s smile went away. She unbuckled her restraints and made her way to the women’s bathroom, thinking that would be the best place for privacy.

“Who is it?” Ameile whispered, making extra certain no one else could hear her conversation.

“Her name is Viollette Barteaux. She lives in Montreal, working as a private detective.”

“Montreal? I can’t go to Canada now! Not with all this new intel we picked up! We’re expected to go over it with a fine-toothed comb.”

“Well, what did you tell people when you went to Cologne?”

“I told Winston and some others I got an anonymous tip.”

“Winston. That’s the gorilla, right?”

“Yes. Cologne was a manageable distance away, but you have to fly across the Atlantic to get to Montreal!”

“Here’s an idea. Do your Overwatch teammates know about us?”

“Of course they do. I was gushing about us before the mission started.”

“How about telling them I’m taking you on a romantic getaway? That it’s something I’ve been working on for a while and can’t change the plans?”

Ameile liked the sound of that. It was certainly a better cover than saying she had a lead on something. Plus, she had been aching for some alone time with her man.

“Have you been to Canada before, Siegfried?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“I did a one-time performance with a ballet company in Vancouver. From what I know about Quebec in general, just be prepared for how French it is. Siegfried, if we have the time there, can we make an actual getaway out of this?”

“I imagine we can.”

“Merveilleux (Wonderful)! I have to go now, have to do debriefing and all that. Adieu beau!”

“Auf Wiedersehen liebling,” Siegfried said before hanging up.

Ameile next walked back out into the main gathering space to one of the computer screens. She initiated a call to Gibraltar to Angela, as part of her post-mission routine during rehabilitation. 

“Hello Ameile,” Angela said, with a few of her new medical recruits standing behind her. “How did the mission go?”

“We got our targets and plenty of intel too, but nothing on Sombra,” Ameile said, uncertain yet of how to act in front of the new faces.

“Alright students,” Angela directed at her onlooking pupils. “Please observe the proper post-mission psychological debriefing. You should all be aware of how mentally sensitive Huntress is.”

Guess I’m a show and tell project for her now, Ameile thought.

“Did you remember to take your medication beforehand?” Angela first asked.

“Yes I did,” Ameile said, knowing the routine Angela put her through. 

“So there were no memories about Widowmaker popping up?”

“None.” 

“No hesitations about taking necessary shots?”

“None.”

“You feel you took part in positive team bonding?”

“Yes I did. I heard a wonderful story about a doctor who had sex with a cyborg today.”

Angela could feel blood suddenly flow to her face, her cheerful demeanor gone away. The medical recruits listening in started giggling under their breaths, which steadily got louder. Angela tried calming them back down, at first assuring them it wasn’t her, then moving on to saying it happened 15 years ago. With the doctor firmly distracted, Ameile ended the connection.

The sniper then made her up to the ship’s cockpit, where Lena held her hands on the control joysticks, keeping track of all the flight monitors. They said the ship was over Burmese airspace at the moment.

“How long until we get to Kolkata?” Ameile asked.

“About half an hour I think,” Lena said too focused on looking through the windows at the sky.

“Lena, I can tell you things because you trust me right?”

“Of course. That’s what friends are for. What is it?”

“I have to go out on my own again, this time to Montreal.”

“Is this another anonymous tip of yours?”

“It’s not anonymous, it’s Siegfried.”

“Oooooh.” 

“Listen, I’m going to tell everyone else I’m going to Montreal because Siegfried arranged a getaway for us. If anyone asks you for anything different, just repeat that.”

“So what are you really going there for if not for romance?”

Ameile couldn’t bring herself to tell Lena the whole truth, despite their friendship status. Lena may be able to get beyond Ameile’s past, but she was positive her friend would disapprove of the vengeful streak she was on right now.

“All I can say is I have personal matters to take care of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack:
> 
> Sitting (Live Version) - M83  
> Ceiling Unlimited - Rush
> 
> Amelie's Overwatch mission uniform featured here is partly inspired by Widowmaker AU art by tumblr users faeriefountainart and nikanono.
> 
> A Brazilian reader on fanfiction.net corrected the Portuguese used here.


	3. Ghost Rider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ameile and Siegfried find their next target in Montreal, Canada.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell by this chapter I want Canadian things in Overwatch? It's what comes from living in Buffalo.
> 
> All French in this chapter comes from Google translate, so I don't know if it's proper Canadian French.

“Vol 8379 de Madrid arrivant maintenant. Flight 8379 from Madrid now arriving,” the announcement on the airport speakers gave off as Ameile and Siegfried emerged into the airport concourse in the late afternoon. Ameile came prepared to brace for the cold weather, even if it was only supposed to get cold at night. She was bundled up in a black coat and had a pair of giant lens sunglasses to deal with bright, cloudless sky. Siegfried wasn’t as concerned with the elements as Ameile, but he still wore his trenchcoat, the warmest item of clothing he had. They picked up their luggage and made their way to the Montreal Metro’s airport stop and rode the train to their destination.

Their hotel was in the Little Burgundy area along the Avenue Atwater, a horrendous combination of newer glass and steel building techniques trying to improve upon an old brick structure. But it was what Siegfried could get on such short notice. Their room was a few floors up firmly in the new section, colored a plain, boring shade of cream. It was equipped with a bed, bathroom, and television; the very basic hotel amenities. Once the two got themselves settled in their cozy space, Siegfried pulled out some documents from his briefcase, among them a photograph of their target, Viollette Barteaux. She was a Quebecois woman in her late 30’s-early 40’s with curly red hair and slight bags starting to form under her green eyes. Siegfried took some time going over her history with Talon.

“Viollette Barteaux was a data gatherer and spy. As part of Talon’s reconnaissance units, she would dig up anything useful for blackmailing. When Gerard became a thorn in their side; she was part of the team working on unearthing any info they could for personal attacks. Of course that lead to where Gerard lived and that you were his wife.”

Ameile already lived this story, but it didn’t hurt any less hearing it, or having the thoughts replay in her head.

“Why is she working as a P.I. now?” Ameile asked

“All those detective skills of hers must have some practical use. And I doubt any police force would want someone of her background on their side. Now from what other info I found on her, her claim now is she’s from a police force from a small Quebec town who moved to Montreal to make it big as a P.I. She also frequents a nightclub near McGill University, Le Nid, on a regular basis. She’s due to show up there tonight.

“So how do we want to do this?” Ameile asked when Siegfried finished.

“Obviously, no guns. These clubs are crowded and loud, so it would have to be very discreet.” 

“I could make a poison,” Ameile said the first thing that came to her head.

“A poison? How?”

“I observed some Talon scientists making poisons for taking out targets quietly, including the Widow’s venom.”

“Where can you get your chemicals?”

“A pharmacy. I’m sure over-the-counter drugs will work. It’s not as complex as people think it is.”

“That’ll do nicely.”

“If it’s any consideration, I want to tell this woman she’s getting the Widow’s venom

“Boy do you have a flair for the dramatics.”

“It comes natural to me. I’ll be heading out shortly then.”

Walking out of the room, Ameile thought she heard Siegfried making a phone call. He went back to speaking in German, so she assumed it was a friend. Making her way a few blocks south of the hotel, Ameile spotted a Rexall pharmacy at the bottom floor of one of the glass skyscrapers. It was as good a place as any to find what she wanted. Walking inside and taking a basket, she saw the aisles lined with various painkillers, antibiotics, and liquid medicines for common ailments. Ameile just started taking whatever she thought would make the best drug cocktail. Painkillers, cough syrup, anti-depressants, it didn’t matter. She put a single-packaged syringe and cheap fume mask in her basket too.

Presenting her gatherings to the cashier, he was more impressed by the amount, rather than showing concern over it’s use.

“Cela fait beaucoup vous avez obtenu ici,” (That’s a lot you got here) the cashier remarked, scanning each bottle and package one-by-one. 

“Mon mari est malade et je ne sais pas ce qu'elle est,” (My husband is sick and I don’t know what it is) Ameile lied, maintaining her poker face.

“Mieux vaut prévenir que guérir. Bonne journée,” (Better safe than sorry. Enjoy your day), the cashier replied finishing packing all the drugs into plastic bags, and handing them over.

“Merci,” Ameile replied once she paid.

When she came back to the room, carrying her plastic bags, Ameile quickly commandeered the bathroom to make her substance. She made sure the sink drain was plugged up, filled with water and her cheap fume mask was on properly. The improvisation was about to begin. If Angela could make potions on a whim, she could do the same.

Ameile started opening the various pill bottles and dumping the contents out, crushing them down into white, red, blue, and green powders with whatever she could use. Her fists, the complementary bathroom glasses, and spare toiletry accessories like tweezers and scissors. Once a pill was crushed, she scooted the powdered remains into the sink, letting the various colors mix together. Ameile poured the various syrups into the sink, turning the liquid into a murky, almost brown state. She was more concerned about getting the concoction to the right shade of purple than its lethality. Ameile was sure this combination would be deadly, but she had no idea if Viollette would actually see the final concoction, which that didn’t matter. She wanted it purple. The same purple the Widow’s Venom gas used to be. She poured a whole bottle of grape flavored children’s cough syrup into the sink, blocking out every color except purple. 

Ameile took the syringe out of its package and stuck the tip at the top of the liquid. Drawing the plunger up, the cocktail flowed inside slowly. Pushing it back down, the liquid gushed out the tip slowly, the syrup appearing to make up the majority of the contents, with little powdery specks dotting the inside. Satisfied with her results, Ameile unclogged the sink and turned the water handles, letting the running water wash the remaining contents away.

Ameile walked out of the bathroom presenting the syringe in her hands to Siegfried, waiting for her results.

“Is it finished?” he asked.

“Yes.” Ameile said taking off her fume mask. “With all the drugs in this, it should kill anyone within a few minutes. Were you calling someone earlier?”

“Yeah, an old Nuremburg friend of mine,” Siegfried said, though Ameile could detect the slightest bit of sheepishness. “I could really go for something to eat right now.”

“Where do you want to go?” 

“It doesn’t matter. Something quick and easy.”

“There was one themed diner I saw a few blocks away. It looked kind of cute.”

“If that’s what my liebling wants.”

“It’s a date then,” Ameile said starting to change out of her clothes, carrying some of the stench from her improvising. She put on a red sweater, still convinced it was going to be cold, with her black coat over that. She put the syringe and her medication inside the coat pocket, as they would be heading out to find Viollette in their travels.

The two walked inside a cheap-looking diner, the kind that tries a bit too much to recreate 1950’s nostalgia. The servers and cashiers were Omnics, and you had to place your order with the cashier while the food was brought out to your table.

“Puis-je avoir un ordre de poutine original et,” (Can I get an order of original poutine and,) Ameile asked the Omnic cashier before turning to Siegfried. “What do you want, beau?”

“A burger is fine.”

“Un burger, et deux eaux avec ce,” (One burger, and two waters with that) Ameile finished up the order.

“Assieds-toi. Votre commande sera porchainement,” (Take a seat. Your order will be out shortly) the cashier replied back as Ameile paid. The two grabbed a booth near the entrance with a window view of the street.

“You want to take your coat off?” Siegfried asked.

“No, it’s still so cold,” Ameile said pretending to shiver.

“It’s 10 degrees Celsius, you’ll be fine. Plus this place is heated.”

“I like my coat and I want to use it.”

Another service Omnic brought out their orders. Siegfried’s burger was in a plastic basket with wax paper. Ameile’s order, a traditional Canadian delicacy made up of French fries, cheese curds, and dark brown gravy, was in a bowl. The Omnic also gave her plenty of napkins for messes.

“What is, what even is that?” Siegfried gasped, unsure what to make of concoction Ameile had ordered.

“You’ve never heard of poutine?” Ameile asked, eating one of the gravy soaked fries.

“Nnnno.”

“It’s just French fires covered in gravy and cheese curds. Jesse McCree makes gross chili fries that are like this.”

“Won’t that harm your figure?”

“I work out in the Overwatch gym nearly every day I don’t have a mission. One plate of local food won’t throw me off.”

“It just, looks so gross.”

“That’s what I thought the first time I tried them. Back in Vancouver. I’m sure there’s gross German food too.”

“No there’s not,” Siegfried tried saying with a mouthful of burger.

“What about when you tried getting me to eat pork knuckle?”

“It tastes the same as any other part of the pig!”

“Oh, does pig normally taste all chewy and boney?”

“It let’s you know you’re a real German! That Reinhardt guy you mentioned will say the same thing.”

“Siegfried, before we go find Viollette, there’s somewhere else I want to go to first.”

“Oh, where?”

“I want to go to Notre Dame.”

“We’re not in Paris, you know.”

“No, there’s a Notre Dame cathedral here too. 

“What do you want there?”

“I need to pray. It’s on the way to the club too.”

“Pray? I didn’t take for you for the religious type.”

“I’m not, but I found it helps keeping myself calm under pressure.”

“Like now? When we’re going to kill someone?”

“I try to every time before I go on a mission, in case that scenario comes up.”

“Will it take long?”

“Depends on how much I feel I need.”

“I’m sure we can fit that in. She’s not supposed to show up until later.”

“Good.”

“You mind if I try one of those?”

“Go right ahead,” Ameile said pushing her bowl across the table. At that point, Ameile had eaten most of the top half, and with it the most stable fries and better formed curds. Siegfried grabbed a fry soggy with the amount of gravy it soaked up. The broken top portion looked like it would fall off at any moment. He scooped up one of the melted curds with the fry then put in his mouth. His expression gave off more curiosity than disgust, though it alternated as he chewed and swallowed.

“That,” Siegfried started to say, “was not as bad I thought it’d be.”

“See? Now don’t you appreciate Canada a little more now?”

“Can’t say I do from one meal.”

Ameile giggled to herself as she finished up her bowl, staring at Siegfried as he finished his burger. Even the condiments occasionally getting on his face didn’t take away from his handsomeness. 

“Are you finished?” Siegfried asked, noticing Ameile was staring over her empty, gravy-lined bowl.

“Yes,” Ameile said, not moving.

“Okay then,” Siegfried said, finished with his burger when there were a few bites left. “Let’s go to church.”

Upon leaving the diner, the two made their way to the Georges-Vanier metro stop, where they rode down a few stops to the Place-d’Armes station. The Notre Dame Cathedral, waiting for them a few blocks from the heart of downtown, soared over the square with it’s stone towers high arches, and religious statues. Despite the Christian imagery built into the stone, banners hung from the towers proclaiming “Tous sont libres d'adorer.” (All are free to worship) It had not been used solely as a catholic cathedral in decades, as it accommodated various iconographies for all religions.

A raggedly street performer with an accoustic guitar was playing on the steps; his case open for passerby’s to drop off their loose change. 

“Carry all those phantoms, through bitter wind and stormy skies from the desert to the mountain, from the lowest low to the highest high.”

Siegfried’s attention was only drawn towards going inside the massive church, but as Ameile passed by the man, she briefly wanted to hear more.

“Keep on riding North and West then circle South and East. Show me beauty, but there is no peace for the ghost rider.”

Ameile dug out her wallet and picked out the loose change she got from the day’s purchases, throwing it in the guitar case. The player gave her a toothed smile and a “Merci” before moving onto the chorus. Ameile had moved on with Siegfried to the wooden doors.

“Shadows on the road behind, shadows on the road ahead, cause nothing can stop you now, nothing can stop you now.” 

In the dark navy skies of early evening, the inside of the basilica was lit only with candles and low-lying lights. They emphasized the various religious imagery and ornamentation. Like any cathedral, a giant cross bearing the body of Jesus hanging in the air was the focal point at one end behind the ceremonial table. Other religious symbols were present along the side aisles, where the Stations of the Cross would normally be. There was a Muslim crescent moon, A Jewish Star of David, a Wheel of Life for Buddhists, and a Ying-Yang symbol, among others. 

Ameile’s attention was drawn to a statue of a six-armed Omnic monk, with arms raised in positions meant to represent a circle. A few Omnics and humans were sitting on the floor in front of the statue, cross-legged with hands resting on their knees with palms facing the ceiling. Ameile joined them, sitting in an open space between and Omnic and a blonde-haired woman. As Ameile assumed the same praying position, the woman turned to her and made an open mouthed expression. Oh great, another fan, Ameile thought. She simply raised a finger to her lips, urging this woman not to call her out. She wanted some time for reflection. 

“Que faites-vous ici?” (What are doing here?) the woman whispered.

“Je suis ici pour prier, tout comme vous,” (I’m here to pray, just like you) Ameile responded, trying to assume her meditative state.

“Vous êtes religieux?” (You’re religious?)

“Voilà ce que Overwatch ne dit pas que le public.” (That’s what Overwatch doesn’t tell the public.)

“Vous êtes une source d'inspiration pour moi et ma fille.” (You’re such an inspiration for me and my daughter.)

“Dites-lui que je l'ai dit bonjour,” (Tell her I said hello) Ameile said eager for this conversation to end. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, recalling the techniques Zenyatta taught her. Breathe in and out slowly. Clear all chaotic thoughts. 

Ameile was never sure if something besides herself could hear her prayers. The Iris teachings never made any direct reference to a deity to be worshiped. And she certainly didn’t pray to God either. Her family growing up were casual Catholics at best, and by the time she grew up, she had stopped going to church all together. Thinking about Widowmaker made her firmly not believe in any deity’s existence. Her argument for that being the ever common, “Why does God let bad things happen to good people?” For that, whenever Ameile prayed, she prayed to and for herself.

She mentally recited the prayers she came up with for these occasions. Let me be forgiven for what I am going to do. Let the memories cause me no harm. Let those I harmed be at rest. Let my soul be free from anguish.

Siegfried wasn’t a religious man. Standing inside the cathedral clearly showed, as he paced around the aisles, down various empty pews, and checking his phone for the time every so often. He didn’t want to be here any longer than he needed to. Not when there’s a chance they might miss the target. After a few laps up and down the center aisle, he made his way over to Ameile, still in her prayer trance.

“How much longer?” Siegfried whispered, not wanting to disturb the others. Ameile didn’t acknowledge, maintaining her position. He just turned his body around, admiring the various gothic ornamentations for the sixth time. 

“What are you praying for anyway?” Siegfried asked her, growing more annoyed with this detour.

“I’m praying for forgiveness,” Ameile responded quietly, not trying to break her state.

“What for? This woman doesn’t need forgiveness. That’s what we’re taking care of.”

“For myself. I want to forgive myself.”

“Ameile, nothing needs to be forgiven.”

Ameile at last opened her eyes, becoming aware of the dimly lit surroundings and the others praying. She got herself up from the floor and took Siegfried down the closest pew for them to sit down.

“Siegfried,” Ameile asked, still whispering, “Do you ever see the faces of people you killed for Talon?”

“Sometimes. I’ve blocked most of them out at this point.”

“I see them nearly every night when I sleep. Ever since I became Ameile again. At first, it drove me mad, seeing hundreds of faces go by. They’d ask me ‘why?’ And I’d have no answer. How could I respond to something I have no control over? Then they would talk to me more. About the lives they left behind. About their families, careers, desires. It plays out the same each time, except with a different person. When they’re finally done talking, I’d just say how sorry I am. And they’d either respond with ‘I forgive you,’ ‘I don’t forgive you,’ or they’d just fade away.”

“Isn’t your medication supposed to stop stuff like that?”

“No amount of meds can take away the guilt.”

“What about when you kill for Overwatch now? Do you see their faces when you sleep?”

“When I’m forced to kill someone now for a mission, I know that it’s for the betterment of the world. I have no reason to feel sorry for them, but it doesn’t make it any easier killing them.”

“If you don’t feel comfortable doing this, I’d be more than happy to kill her instead.”

“No Siegfried. She had a part in Widowmaker’s creation. I need to be the one to do it. I just want to stay a while longer.”

Ameile leaned her head against Siegfried’s shoulder, taking in the Gothic ambience. She pondered what to say, how Viollette would beg for mercy, and whether she had prayed enough.

“We really should get going,” Siegfried urged, trying to get her head off him. “Viollette will show up at the club in 15 minutes.” 

Ameile raised her head back up. “Okay, let’s go.”

The two took the Metro to the Bonaventure stop, a few blocks away from the main entertainment district for McGill University students. Plenty of banners were still hung celebrating the Montreal Canadiens Stanley Cup win from the year before. The bitter cold wind didn’t deter any patrons, with plenty waiting outside to get inside their restaurants, bars, and clubs. Among the various establishments and old-style brick buildings, the two found their place along the Rue Drummond. Sprawled on the side of one building in a giant cursive neon sign was Le Nid (The Nest). Ameile and Siegfried had no trouble getting inside.

The inside was loud, for one thing, with a large dancefloor in the wide-open, two-floored space, and various spotlights spinning and shining different colors around. The outside façade never gave the impression the interior was this big. Maybe this place is from that show Lena tried getting me to watch, Ameile thought. About an alien with the time machine that’s bigger on the inside. 

The rest of interior was made up of a bar on the left side, red velvet carpeting along the floors people would normally walk around on, various booths and high-rise tables for people to rest. Everyone else looked like they could be no more than their mid-20’s, the proper college age demographic. Ameile and Siegfried looked like the oldest people in there, way too proper to be there. She started to think maybe they were in the wrong spot; that Viollette wasn’t here.

“I see her,” Siegfried pointed out the center of the crowd on the dancefloor.

Looking hard, Ameile could see the face Siegfried had shown her before. There was Viollette, with her red hair, wearing what appeared to be a dark green sweater above her black skirt. No doubt she was dancing with some of her friends.

Ameile and Siegfried found themselves an available high-rise table, giving themselves a view of the activity happening. Sometimes a person taking drink orders would walk by, asking if they want anything. The two declined, not letting any alcohol get in the way of their plans.

“So, when do you want to do it?” Siegfried asked. Ameile’s face was more concerned with figuring out where Viollette would end up sitting down. She spied a booth close to a small stairway to the dancefloor opposite where they were sitting. The people Viollette was dancing with were leaving for that table and coming onto the floor from there. 

“I will when she goes over to that booth other there,” Ameile pointed to show Siegfried.

“In front of all those people?”

“I’ll say I’m an old friend and want to catch up.”

“You sure that’ll work?”

“I’m willing to say most of the people over there are drunk, so they’ll believe anything,” Ameile rationalized. She took out her pill bottle and opened it, putting one of the tablets down her throat. She then took the syringe out of her pocket and slid it up her right sleeve. “I’m going over.”

Ameile made her way over passing by numerous young people trying to make their way to the dancefloor as the song changed. Her thoughts raced across what would happen if this goes wrong. What if my poison isn’t potent enough? What if other people notice and I get caught? What would happen if Overwatch found out about this? Either way, there was no going back now. She needed this closure. She wanted to rest easy. She wanted every sorry sod responsible for ruining her life dead. 

Finally, she was next to the booth, with Viollette’s back facing her. Ameile made her move. 

“Oh Viollette!” Ameile shouted over the music, coming next to the target. “Je ne vous ai pas vu dans les ages!” (I haven’t seen you in ages!)

“Excusez-moi?” (Excuse me?) Violette responded, turning around and immediately confused at this strange woman. She couldn’t properly see her face from the various colored lights going about.

“Je ne savais pas qu'il vous était au début, mais je ne pourrais jamais oublier votre visage,” (I wasn't sure it was you at first, but I could never forget your face) Ameile told her before realizing the group Viollette came with was staring at her. “Comment stupide de ma part. Je suis un vieil ami de Viollette de de la force.” (How stupid of me. I'm an old friend of Viollette's from the force)

Ameile then gave Viollette a hug, bringing her mouth enough to the woman’s ear for a whisper, switching to English and a threatening tone. “I know who you are. We need to talk.”

Viollette recognized the cold distant voice now. She hadn’t heard it in so long, but it was one people at Talon always learned to fear.

“Ameile?”

“Voila.”

“Why are you here? What do you want?”

“Tell your friends we need to catch up.”

Startled by what was happening, Viollette had no choice but to obey. She turned back to her friends to repeat what Ameile ordered. “Mesdames, nous serons à une table différente de rattrapage.” (Ladies we’ll be at a different table catching up)

Ameile led Viollette to an empty high-rise table just outside the dancefloor. Viollette just had a solemn look on her face, facing judgment for her past crimes. Ameile just looked like she was going to enjoy this.

“So,” Viollette started with, “how much do you know?”

“I know you’re the one who found out I was Gerard’s wife and where to find me. And I hear you’re working as a P.I. now. How appropriate for you.”  
“And aren’t you in Overwatch now? Can’t they kick you out for this?” 

“Only if no one tells. Yes, I’m still a soldier, but one with teammates who care about me and with a better purpose.” 

“If you want revenge or something, I’ll have you know that I’ve been trying to turn my life around, providing a great service.”

“As a P.I.? How ancient.”

“Hey, they can make a comeback. Doing things the police and Overwatch are unwilling to do.”

“And what’s that exactly? Taking pictures of cheating spouses?”

“We have to start somewhere.”

“Of course, but even that’s too good for you.”

“Ameile, I know you’re upset,”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“But I’ll have you know most ex-Talon people are at least trying to right their wrongs.”

“Ha! Before coming here, I was on a mission in Vietnam chasing down Sombra’s associates. They’re technically ex-Talon too. And they hacked some major corporations. What do you have to say about them?”

Viollette at last started to take Ameile’s intentions for being here seriously. Her eyes may no longer be yellow, but the dark blue they were instead were no less threatening.

“I’m not the same person I was, Ameile, please don’t kill me!”

“Relax, relax,” Ameile assured Viollette engaging in a hug. She moved the syringe down the inside of her sleeve into the palm of her right hand. “Your death will be quick.”

Once she felt the plunger comfortably with her thumb, she plunged the needle into the side of Viollette’s stomach, pushing down. Viollette felt the pain immediately, her eyes opening wider. She prepared to let out a scream, but Ameile’s left hand covered her mouth quickly, so the resulting scream ended up as nothing more and mouth garble, inaudible over the music.

“Do not scream, I just injected you with a variation of the old Widow’s venom,” Ameile ordered, with the last part her personal embellishment. “The poison will leave you dead in a matter of minutes. Now here’s what I want you to do. I want you to go back to your group of friends, and tell them we were just catching up. I will be watching you until you collapse on the floor and die. If you tell your friends anything what I did to you, I will reveal what you did to me to them. What your past was really like. Nod your head if you understand.”

Viollette nodded, the hand still covering her mouth

“Good. Now as you spend the last few moments of your life here, I want you to think about what lead you to this point, where you’d die in the middle of this nightclub. Think about all the people who died because of you. Think of all the horror and anguish you caused because of what you did to me. My only wish to you is that you finally understand my pain when your time is up.”

Ameile lowered her hand off of Viollette’s mouth and let her stand up.

“Vouz allez en enfer,” (You’re going to hell) Viollette insulted her.

“Déjà là. Maintenant, courir le long,” (Already been there. Now run along) Ameile urged her, making a hand motion suggesting she vacate her presence. Viollette walked off nervously, never breaking eye contact with Ameile as she walked up the stairs back to her table. Even when walking backwards, with her body looking like it was shivering, Viollette couldn’t bear to look away. Ameile got up from the table and proceeded to walk back to where Siegfried was, only occasionally returning glances.

“It’s done,” Ameile told Siegfried as she reached him. They both looked over at the booth, seeing the conversation among Viollette’s friends hadn’t broken in the time she was missing, but Viollette just stared back their way, even after she took a seat. After a few minutes of this long-distance staring contest, Viollette lurched over face-first onto the velvet floor, her friends alternating between screaming and crying for help. Ameile and Siegfried knew it was time for their getaway, escaping out the front door holding hands.

 

Siegfried fumbled opening the door behind him, too focused on keeping his lips on Ameile. When he finally did get it open, the two fell onto the rough hotel carpet, Ameile lying on top. After they shared a good laugh, the two got up with Ameile closing the door. She jumped up onto Siegried, crossing her legs against his back and arms across his neck, reaching her head towards his for more kisses. Siegfried’s right hand was planted on her posterior, his left hand reaching underneath the back of her shirt. He had enough strength to walk their bodies to the bed, but not much after, as he dropped her onto the sheets once they arrived. 

Siegfried lifted his shirt over his head, his torso muscles in fine shape for someone in his late 30’s. Ameile did the same for her shirt, revealing the black bra she was wearing. She tried arching herself up to unhook it, but Siegfried’s body already fell down on her, kissing her abdomen in ways that made Ameile shiver. Ameile managed to get her bra off as Siegfried pulled her pants and underwear down her legs in one fell swoop.

Siegfried went to work dragging his tongue across Ameile’s long thighs, slowly making his way towards what lay between her legs. Ameile cupped her breasts in anticipation, letting out her first moan as the man’s tongue licked her slit. She stroked her nipples for more stimulation, letting out more moans as the tongue started making it’s way inside her, making up and down strokes with the occasional suck on her clit. Ameile could feel the pressure inside her stomach building, too fast for her liking. Her hand reached down to Siegfried’s head and pulled it up from her groin. She flashed him a look indicating she’d like to do something else with him.

Siegfried straightened out his back in order to start unbuttoning his pants, but Ameile urged him to stop, taking the lead on the matter instead. Quickly undoing the button and unzipping, Ameile threw the pants down to Siegfried’s knees, not giving him the time to get off the bed to properly to remove them. Siegfried’s erection fell into her hand and Ameile started stroking it. Siegfried’s head leaned back, starting to moan on his own. Ameile started slow, then moved her hand faster, the thrill of the kill still in her system, with the time between Siegfried’s breaths becoming noticeably shorter. Satisfied with the progress made on that front, Ameile dragged her tongue along the bottom of the erection, the veins lining it popping out ever so slightly. Wanting to bring Siegfried as close to the edge as she was at, Ameile wrapped her mouth around his cock, moving down on it at the same pace she did before with her hands. The teeth and tongue made Siegfried give out cries of near agony, with his hand grasping her messy black hair. Despite making her man give out those noises, the taste of pre-cum let Ameile know she was going too fast. She wasn’t in the mood for the salty taste in her mouth. She wanted herself and Siegfried to cum together, and a blowjob wouldn’t do the job. Looking up at her man, making eye contact, Ameile let his cock fall out of her mouth, and gave him a sly smile.

Ameile turned around to lay chest down on the bed, presenting her ass. Siegfried’s chest became flush with her back as he held his right hand underneath Ameile’s chin, holding her head back so he could kiss her. He lined more kisses along her back, including plenty on the Qui Vivra Verra tattoo on the right shoulder and the faint scars from the spider tattoo removal. As Ameile lay in bliss, she felt Siegfried’s erection enter and let out another moan. She was already so close to cumming and no doubt Siegfried was too. His chest grazed her back as he thrust in a steady rhythm. Ameile could feel the breath from his panting against the back of her head and pulled his head close to hers, so he could breathe right beside her left ear. She kissed him on his stubble, a sign for him to go faster. 

Ameile could feel her breaths becoming shorter, the pressure building up inside finally about to burst. Siegfried’s was getting shorter as well with his faster pace of thrusting. Then, his body flung back up in the air, uttering out more moaning. She could feel his warm seed seeping inside her, his erection going in as far as it could go, trying to make Ameile cum one last time before it was spent. With that, Ameile finally gave in, lurching backwards against Siegfried so her butt was up against his groin, taking every inch in. After a few more moans on her part, Ameile fell back down chest first on the bed, trying to slow her breathing down.

Collapsed sprawling sideways on the bed next to her, Siegfried started to laugh. Ameile wasn’t sure about what, but she started laughing too. 

“What’s so funny, beau?” Ameile asked.

“Oh nothing, liebling” Siegfried replied, giving her another kiss on the lips. “Just thinking about something else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack:
> 
> Down by the Water - PJ Harvey  
> Ghost Rider - Rush  
> Superstylin' - Groove Armada  
> Audio Video Disco - Justice


	4. Nocturne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ameile has a nightmare, then gets called back to Gibraltar due to dubious activity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also known as the chapter of gratuitous cameos.

Ameile found herself lying to a bed, but not the same hotel bed she went to sleep on. A bright light shone on her from above, but she could not see high enough to find the source. She was surrounded by unending darkness, a common occurrence when dreaming about those she killed. But this was different. No benevolent spirits appeared. She had no company. She felt more alone than she had in some time.

“Hello? Is there anyone here?” Ameile questioned the darkness. She was also tied up to the bedposts. A very tough wire held her in place, holding firm as she struggled to break out. 

As if she was a trapped insect.

“It looks like the spider caught the butterfly,” a voice said from the darkness. Her voice?

“Who’s there?” Ameile cried out.

It took what must have felt like half an hour, but lurking in the shadows, coming towards her, Ameile could see a figure she had hoped she’d never see again. A woman with purplish-blue skin, wearing a purple skintight suit exposing her cleavage with webs lining her legs, and sporting a seven-lensed visor on her head, covering her blue tinted hair.

Widowmaker. 

“You!” Ameile shouted.

“Is that a proper way to address yourself?” Widowmaker said not in her typical detached tone, but more venomous. Ameile never remembered herself talking in such fashion.

“You don’t exist anymore!”

“Don’t exist? I am you. Dan la vie et dans la mort.” (In life and in death)

“No you’re not! I’m Ameile Lacroix! You’re a killing monster!”

“A monster? How hurtful. You had the time of your life as me.”

“You robbed me of everything!”

“I gave you everything. Where would you be right now if you never became me? A poor widow still doing ballet? Certainly not the best sniper in the world. At least be grateful Talon didn’t kill you when they found out who you were.”

All Ameile could muster up in response was “Vas te faire encule.” (Fuck you)

“Shameful, if that’s all you can think of. I must say, I’m disappointed in you.”

“What for? That I don’t kill the innocents anymore?”

“You can still do what I can, yet you waste it on pathetic Overwatch.”

“Overwatch destroyed Talon. You lost. And if it weren’t for them, I would be dead. Just like Gabriel.”

“And Tracer? You’re friends with that chienne? (bitch) You’ve really gone soft.”

“Why wouldn’t I? She’s possible the nicest person I’ve ever met.” 

“Amateur. Fraternizing with the enemy. But this killing spree you’re on now. That has my attention.”

“It’s not a killing spree.”

“Such a foolish girl. What else could it be? And what could you possibly be getting revenge for anyway?”

“For having to be you.”

“You know, if you were never me, you wouldn’t be able to kill those people.”

“What difference does that make?”

“You and I may be more similar than you want to believe.”

“But I wanted those people dead. You just had orders.”

“Yet they’re dead. If I didn’t have orders, I’m sure I would’ve killed more to get the feeling. The rush of being alive. Did you feel the same way, killing Lukas and Viollette?”

Ameile couldn’t stand to be taunted any longer. She became more concerned with where she was being held captive. The light didn’t extend beyond the reaches of her bed, so the darkness never changed. “Where am I?”

“You know where.”

With a rising motion of her hands, Widowmaker illuminated the dark space. Ameile could feel her bonds disappear, but wished she had at least that protection. For she remembered the horrors surrounding her. The room held various torture contraptions, ranging from electroshock, water boarding, isolation chambers, and sensory deprivation. She also saw bodies lying on the ground, presumably dead. It took her a while to notice, but the bodies were all of people Ameile previously saw in her dreams. Widowmaker’s victims. 

The last thing Ameile saw was Widowmaker giving her an evil smile as she walked up beside the bed, whispering one last thing in her ear.

“I’m going to have some fun with you. Then you’ll see you never changed at all.”

Ameile shot up out of the bed sheets, sweating and panting fastly. She wasn’t in the torture room anymore. Widowmaker wasn’t beside her. She was back in her dark hotel room, naked with Siegfried next to her naked as well. She must have been screaming or something, because he woke up a few seconds after her.

“What is it, liebling?” Siegfried said, springing up next to her.

“Beau,” Ameile said throwing herself up against Siegfried’s front, draping her arms around his back to draw him in closer. “It was awful. Widowmaker was taunting me, saying we’re the same, and wanted to torture me. And there were dead bodies everywhere.”

“Well, it was just a dream. It can’t hurt you now.”

Despite Ameile’s attraction to the man, Siegfried wasn’t one who boasted the best advice. Mostly spouting clichéd lines which offered minimal comfort, with a somewhat detached quality.

She wished Lena were here. She would always know what to say and do in a time like this.

Lying back down on the bed, Ameile reached for her phone, charging in a nightstand on her side of the bed. Siegfried ran his fingers down her back, trying to comfort her. The time was just about 6 in the morning, but she saw she had plenty of missed calls and messages from Gibraltar. Mainly from Winston and Lena. Lena’s messages were very short and urgent.

Lena: I’m so sorry, don’t be mad!!

I tried saying what you told me!!

But they know you’re up to something else! :(

I’m flying out to pick you up

I’ll try to explain later. Sorry love!! :(

There was also a voice message from Winston she played.

Winston: Ameile, we need you back at Gibraltar to discuss what you’ve been up to. Mainly with your recent personal trips. Lena’s been sent to retrieve you, and bring that Siegfried fellow of yours.

Ameile called Lena. Sure enough, she was in the middle of flying out to meet them.

“Lena, what’s happening?”

“I’m so sorry Ameile, I really am, but they just got it out of me!”

“Got what out?”

“Winston and Jack were saying you’re up to some shady business, and how that kind of stuff can’t be tolerated, and that they need to speak to you immediately about it!”

“Calm down Lena! I’m sure it’s just a simple disciplinary thing and nothing more.”

“You know being official now comes with being a tight ship! We can’t afford any fuckups like the whole Blackwatch deal. God, we can’t go a whole year without something illegal happening.”

“Calm down!”

“Don’t tell me to be calm! You’re my friend and I don’t want to see thrown out or worse!”

“Alright alright alright, when will you get here?”

“I’m just going through New Brunswick now, so I’ll give you an hour or so to get to the airport. Ameile, is what they’re saying true?”

“I’ll explain everything when I see you. Just trust me. Adieu,” Ameile reassured her best friend before hanging up.

“What was that about?” Siegfried asked.

“Our vacation’s over. Lena’s coming to pick us up.”

“Over? We’ve been here hardly a day.”

“Overwatch want us back at Gibraltar. Apparently they know some things about what I’ve been up to.”

“Us?”

“Yes us. They want to talk to you as well.”

“Do they know about me? About my past?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, we only have an hour to get to the airport.”

“An hour? But we have to get dressed and cleaned up,” 

“Then get moving,” Ameile ordered dragging Siegfried by his wrist into the bathroom. The two took a shower, dried off, brushed their teeth, got dressed, and packed up in what must have been record time. After Siegfried failed to get a refund for the remaining time he had the room booked for, they hurried along in the dark early morning to the nearest Metro stop, riding it down to the airport. Ameile rested her head on Siegfried’s shoulder for most of the ride, trying to get some more sleep. But she worried what would occur if she happened to dream about Widowmaker again. Was it something she couldn’t help but do?

Once they arrived at the airport, Ameile asked the departure desk if there were any special Overwatch planes or anything like that waiting for them. The person managing the desk said a jet just landed, waiting by the storage facilities in-between the runways. None the passenger shuttle carts were in operation, so sadly, they had to walk out there. Ameile didn’t have time to argue, so they were just lead or a stairway leading outside to the runway area. Walking nearly half a mile in the early morning cold, even with their warm coverings, Ameile still held Siegfried tight, hoping to gain some warmth from him.

Waiting for them was Lena’s new jet, designed for fast near supersonic travel with nowhere near the person capacity of standard Overwatch dropships. Lena waited on the stairway for them, sporting a pair of aviator sunglasses and a bomber jacket with more warm fabric lining the inside than her standard one. It was unbuttoned at the top, showing the upper part of the new accelerator harness. Clearly, the cold didn’t bother her.

“Now boarding for Gibraltar, sold-out capacity of two,” Lena called out, leading her passengers onboard.

“Tracer, if I remember?” Siegfried asked.

“Tracer’s the name, fighting bad guys is my game. Inspiring kiddies all around the world.” 

“Weren’t you eating a poor French guy’s face last time I saw you?”

“I was on vacation! He wasn’t gonna call back anyway.”

“Ameile says you can take that thing on your chest off?”

“Yeah, but it still can’t be too far away from my body. Now if you two just buckle up, we can take off.”

Ameile and Siegfried followed the orders and sat in two seats facing the door hatch. The luggage fit underneath their seats and their restraints were regular shoulder harnesses. As they felt the jet move out to the runway, Lena’s voice came up over the speakers.

“Cshzzzzz, Gooooood morning everyone! This is your captain Lena Oxton reporting from the cockpit. This is a brand new issue Overwatch minimum capacity sonic jet, so I’m required to go over the safety features as we head out to the runway. Upon takeoff, the jet will go at a 60-degree angle, so the inexperienced may feel queasy until we straighten out. In the event of any emergency landing, weapons can be found under your seat cushions so you’re not completely defenseless for when we kick our attackers on their asses. There will be no refreshments because the aviation people want these jets spotless. So just sit tight, we’re clear for takeoff.”

The jet picked up speed along the runway. True to Lena’s word, as soon as the plane started lifting off the ground, it went up at a 60-degree angle. Siegfried was the one thinking his stomach was gonna lurch, holding his one hand over his mouth and the other over his stomach. Ameile was more calm, but did feel her stomach turning as well. Once they broke through the clouds, with the rising sun just breaking the horizon, the jet leveled out, the nauseous feelings subsiding. Lena’s voice came over the speakers again.

“Cshzzzz, lady and gent, we’ve reached cruising altitude. You’re now free to move about and talk to me in the cockpit.”

Ameile immediately unbuckled her restraints and walked through the small fuselage to the cockpit, knocking on the door.

“Who is it?” Lena’s voice called out.

“You know who,” Ameile responded, eager to get to the bottom of her predicament.

“What’s the password?”

“Lena, this is serious.”

The door opened outward, revealing the extremely cramped cockpit space, clearly only designed for the pilot. Lena was surrounded by various computer screens and controls not unlike the standard dropship, but much more compressed. She was concentrating more on flying than paying attention to the passengers behind her.

“So,”Ameile started off standing outside the doorway, “care to explain what’s happening?”

“I told Winston, Jack, etcetera etcetera that you and your man were taking some you time. They didn’t make much of it, too busy with all the Sombra intel we got. Then they came back to me asking about Siegfried, because his name popped up there.”

Siegfried was still buckled into his seat, listening a short distance away. But he immediately felt nervous at the thought of being brought in for questioning. “You didn’t tell her I used to be with Talon?”

“It’s very touchy right now!” Ameile shouted back.

“And then there were these news reports out of Cologne about some neuroscientist who committed suicide and turned out to be ex-Talon, and died the same day you were there,” Lena continued. “Name was Lukas Hase. Jack pretty much ordered me to get you back after that came up.”

Ameile had a hard time looking out at from the cockpit’s front windows. Mainly from the rising sun illuminating everything around it orange. Even if she dug out her sunglasses from her bag, she doubted that would help. 

“Did you kill that guy?”

There was no use skirting around it now. If Winston and Jack were going to find out about what she’s been up to, Lena deserved to hear it as well.

“Lena, it’s kind of a therapeutic thing for me.”

“Goddamnit Ameile! How am I supposed to cover for you?”

“I’m seven years older than you and the best sniper in the world. I can handle one disciplinary matter.”

“I can explain some things too,” Siegfried called out, feeling left out of the conversation.

“Look, he was one of the people who turned me into Widowmaker, okay?”

Lena sat in silence, trying to process that fact and concentrate on flying.

“That’s the truth. The whole truth. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“No, love, I do.”

“Do you? I don’t think the people who made your accelerator put you through endless agony and torture. They saved you from that.”

“But if someone screwed this thing up, or if they never saved me at all, I’d be pretty pissed off too.”

“Sweet happy Lena. You wouldn’t be able to do what I did.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Lena turned around to direct her statement at Ameile. Her right eyebrow rose over her sunglasses. “You forget Numbani?”

“You were never gonna pull the trigger.”

“Push me a little harder back then and I wouldn’t be flying you sorry sods right now,” Lena spun her chair back around regaining the jet’s controls, worried more about flying as they started to cross the Atlantic.

Poor Lena, Ameile thought. She gets wound up so easily in caring for others, taking it upon herself to get others out of trouble. This was really none of her business, yet she was getting upset over it. Something she had no involvement in. She needed to loosen up, since it was going to be a 5-hour flight at least. So Ameile snuck into the cramped space, her arms going around the side of the chair, and her finger’s reaching for Lena’s sides. Lena tried ignoring it, but that just made Ameile try harder, eventually getting her to bust out laughing.

“Ameile!” Lena shouted, trying to hold back her laughter. “This is a new jet! I don’t have the hang of everything yet.”

“If you’re the best pilot we have, like you constantly boast, I’m sure you can manage,” Ameile said continuing to tickle her friend.

The jet arrived at 6 pm Gibraltar time, with lights from the reconstructed headquarters shining bright in the early evening. Ever since Gibraltar became Overwatch’s new formal headquarters, the base encompassed the whole territory now. From above, groups of recruits were doing jogging drills, running along the shoreline. Various airships were going through routine maintenance in some of the open hangers. And it looked like some were were trying to have a nice evening out. 

The jet landed on the runway with a sudden thud, Lena still getting the hang on how to properly land these crafts, but still managing to slow it down and park it with the other jets. As the three riders disembarked with their luggage, Reinhardt Wilhelm and Ana Amari greeted them, both in casual wear.

“Greetings friends!” Reinhardt boasted as the three walked on solid ground again. “I trust you had a pleasant flight.”

“It always is when I’m in charge,” Lena proclaimed. Ameile rolled her eyes.

“You must be Reinhardt Wilhelm!” Siegfried called out upon seeing the old German.

“Yes I am. Is that a German accent I hear?”

“Yes. I’m from Nuremburg!”

“Nuremburg? I’m from Stuttgart! 

“Stuttgart? Oh your club’s gonna be in for a word of hurt this year!”

“Your words don’t hurt me! I haven’t been a Stuttgart fan for years!”

Siegfried and Reinhardt walked in front of the three ladies heading for the main facilities, switching to German as they went on and on about the football season and other German things. This included whether Reinhardt liked eating pork knuckle. Even once they entered the main hanger, making their way to the section with the veterans’ living quarters and interrogation rooms, the two Germans still rambled on in their native language.

“Don’t worry about them,” Ana reassured the two other women. “Reinhardt always goes on like that when he meets a fellow German.”

“I suppose he’ll keep Siegfried out of trouble,” Ameile responded. She had wondered if she was allowed to bring Siegfried onto Overwatch premises, like how Gerard used to do with her. But these were less than ideal circumstances for those thoughts to happen. “Where’s Fareeha? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“She’s back in Egypt, trying to bring Helix Securities into the fold. That company came up numerous times in the Sombra intel, so she thinks a pre-emptive alliance will fight any further attacks against them. The Shimada clan came up a lot too.

“The Shimada’s? Is Genji worried at all?”

“Not at all. But someone else,”

“Sake. Sake!” a gruff voice called out from one of the specialty rooms. A few computer science recruits ran out down the hallway, chased by a thrown glass, which broke once it hit the wall. Following them into the hall was Hanzo, in his typical Japanese robes leaving half his chest and tattooed arm exposed, though slightly intoxicated. “This is a world-wide organization. How do you not have refreshments for anyone who,” Hanzo stopped once he saw the three laides, staring at the whole ordeal. “Ameile.”

“Hanzo,” Ameile said, surprised. “When did you get in?”

“Yesterday. As soon as I was told Sombra had some files on the clan, I decided to personally see to it myself. 

“Did you find anything?”

“Just some things about dealing with rival clans so far, along with our previous involvement. Nothing I can’t take of when I return.” 

“Huh, I didn’t know you could decrypt.”

“Oh no, I was never good at this decryption stuff, but the recruits I was assigned to work with, let’s say, don’t always respect my wishes.” Hanzo at this point just noticed the bag Ameile was carrying. “Were you out somewhere?”

“Yeah, just got back from Montreal. Lena picked me and my boyfriend up.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Yeah he’s, he’s” Ameile looked around trying to see where Siegfried went. He and Reinhardt must have taken their German squabble somewhere else. “I don’t know where he went off to.”

Hanzo started to feel flustered. After Overwatch had been reinstated, Hanzo turned down Genji’s offer to join in favor of trying to get the clan out of the crime business. It was a hard task to do considering Hanamura castle was symbolically built with criminal money. Even harder is finding what else the Shimada clan would stand for. So when this reported Sombra leak came out, Hanzo immediately jumped at the chance for a change of pace.

Hanzo also thought of Ameile from time to time back in Japan. During his brief time with Talon, he was fascinated with how someone like Widowmaker could exist. A soul of a killer engulfed in such beauty. He knew there was more to her than her cold demeanor lead her subordinates to believe. That her humanity was trapped, much like how he felt then. The last time he saw her was back in New York for the ceremony the U.N. put on for Overwatch’s new legitimacy. Whenever he talked to Genji about his escapades, Hanzo would occasionally ask what Ameile was up to.

“So, . . .” Hanzo stumbled back into the conversation, “how’s Overwatch been treating you?”

“Well. They’ve helped me maintain my sanity, the least I could ask for. And I at least do some good in the world.”

“Is it true you’re called Huntress now? That name seems,”

“I know, it wasn’t my first choice for a call sign either. But it’s grown on me.”

“Ameile!” Angela shouted out from down the hall, running towards the group in her lab coat.

“Nice to see you too,” Ameile responded nonchalantly.

“I hope you’re happy. Now some of my recruits are calling me the cyborg slut.”

Hanzo found himself laughing under his breath. He didn’t need to know much to gather what was happening, or who the culprit was.

“Hanzo, it’s not funny,” Angela retorted. “How can I train new doctors if they don’t respect me?”

“At least that part of Genji hasn’t changed,” Hanzo remarked.

“Guess those students just don’t deserve you then,” Ameile said back to Angela, thinking on her feet. “I did you a service, weeding out the runts of the litter.”

“You still owe me a proper examination.”

“I’m afraid I have a lot on my plate at the moment, with Jack and Winston. Plus I want to see Zenyatta too,”

“Genji’s teacher?” Hanzo interrupted.

“Yes, that Zenyatta. He’s done wonders for my psyche.”

“Well after you’re done coming up with excuses, you know where my office is. I’ll be waiting,” Angela said before going off, most likely attending to some other medical task.

“I suppose I must be getting back to my work then,” Hanzo nervously said. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too, archer,” Ameile replied, leading Ana and Lena on the path to find Zenyatta. Hanzo went back into his reserved room, determined not to get angry at the recruits, with a new batch sent to help him.

“You know Hanzo has been asking about you?” Ana pointed out. 

“Yes I know. Genji already told me,” Ameile said feeling Ana having one her old person moments coming on.

“It must be hard for a man such as him to meet anyone, being the head of a clan and all.”

“I have a boyfriend Ana! You literally just met him!”

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt to consider a man who walks around with half his chest exposed.”

“Reinhardt’s enormous pecks must be doing things to your head.”

“Remind me, who do you have to thank for not being Widowmaker anymore? When I told everyone my plan for you, they all said,”

“It’s a suicide mission, it’ll never work, I’ve heard that all already.”

“You know, with the work he’s been putting in lately, it wouldn’t hurt for someone to visit him.”

“Oh okay, and while we’re at it, let’s bring Lena and Genji along for round two.”

“Woah, I said that never happened,” Lena didn’t want to be dragged into this.

“I’m still not letting that go.”

The group found Zenyatta escorting some recruits out of his personal meditation chamber. The end of a session, it looked like. Aside from helping new Omnic recruits get acclimated to working with Overwatch, Zenyatta served as one of the main Omnic-human liaisons, improving relations between the two. There was definite progress made over the past few months, with Talon’s God program plan foiled, but the occasional protest or violent act still happened and needed to be dealt with.

“Ameile, I see you’ve returned safely,” Zenyatta greeted his pupil.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with you. Alone,” Ameile slightly directed at Lena and Ana.

“I’ll just see where Reinhardt and his new friend went off to,” Ana said, leading Lena away.

“Please enter,” Zenyatta urged. His meditation space had no windows, was painted a woody green occasionally broken up by creases in the walls and images of the Shambali monetary. The foam-lined floor still had impressions of footprints from earlier. Ameile sat down cross-legged, with Zenyatta getting back to his floating state.

“What is on your mind?” Zenyatta started off with.

“Do Omnics know anything about dreams?” 

“We are capable of and understand independent thought as much as humans. So dreams naturally follow.”

“It’s just, I had a very unpleasant one last night.”

“What about?”

“It was just Widowmaker taunting me, saying I’m wasting her powers. I tried fighting back with words, but that didn’t do anything. Eventually, I found myself back in the Talon torture rooms, and Widowmaker said she would do horrible things to me.”

“Hmm, is this the first time this particular dream happened?”

“Yes. I’d usually just talk to the people Widowmaker killed, but they were just corpses in this dream too.

“Maybe this has to do with some disheartening things I’ve been hearing. That you killed someone? Possibly for the sake of revenge?”

“It, it wasn’t just revenge. It was someone who helped turn me into that cold, cold bitch.”

“I would think you of all people would know the harm of taking a life, along with the justice that follows.”

“Didn’t you say once that justice is defined by the hand that claims it?”

“Revenge is not justice.”

“Well, consider it atonement then.”

“We’ve gone over this many times. You are not responsible for Widowmaker’s acts.”

“No, it has nothing to do with that.”

“What then?”

“These, . . well I guess I can say these because there was someone else in Montreal,”

Zenyatta gave out a disapproving sigh. This pupil had been a tougher nut to crack than Genji. “Ameile, I thought we were working to make sure any tendencies having to do with Widowmaker don’t show up. Your meditation and prayer sessions with me and Angela’s medication. Have they not been working?”

“They’ve done wonders for my well-being.”

“So why are you doing this now? Taking innocents that aren’t in the name of a mission?”

“They’re not innocents. And the opportunity presented itself. I couldn’t say no to that.”

“So whoever gave you this opportunity then, cut them off. You wouldn’t want risking a side of yourself you want dead to reemerge.”

“Well, there’s a problem with that,” Ameile was interrupted by the door opening, with Siegfried and Ana waiting for her.

“If you’re all wrapped up here, Winston and Jack really want to see you now,” Ana urged. 

“We’ll continue this discussion another time,” Zenyatta said as Ameile left. “Just remember what I said and to continue your meditations.”

Ameile led Siegfried down to one of the boardrooms, located in the underground portions of the base. These were the new designated areas for mission briefings, along with other designated “fun team building activities,” like orientations and parties. They found Jack and Winston waiting in one of these boardrooms, sitting opposite of a long table in leather swivel chairs. Jack was wearing a blue and yellow uniform somewhat reminiscent of his old Overwatch attire. Clearly he had no use for the Soldier 76 persona anymore. Winston was out of his usual suit of armor, instead wearing an orange recruitment bodysuit. He must have been training some new soldiers before this meeting.

“So,” Siegfried meekly said put off by the two leaders. “You, you’re Winston?”

“Were you expecting something else?” the gorilla responded.

“I’ve heard about the talking gorillas. It’s just something you never expect to see in person.”

“Now Ameile,” Winston directed towards her, “I imagine you know why we called you here on short notice.”

“If it’s because I’m dating an ex-Talon soldier,”

“No, no, we’ll get to that later. It has to do with what you’re doing recently on your off-time.”

“I thought my off-time was my own business.”

“Not when you’re part of a U.N. sanctioned organization,” Jack interrupted. “You remember how hard we worked bringing Overwatch back from the dead. We can’t afford one mishap like this blowing it all up again!”

Siegfried opened up his mouth to say something, but Ameile made a hand motion urging him not to. They would get their chance to speak. 

“So this man from Cologne, Lukas Hase,” Winston continued on. “Did Lena bring you up to speed?”

“She told me he was found in his apartment, committed suicide.”

“Care to explain why you killed him?”

Ameile didn’t speak up, holding out some shred of hope it’ll be dropped and they’ll move on.

“A neurologist with old ties to Talon decides to kill himself in the middle of the night. Nothing about his life suggested he wanted to commit suicide. Sure he was divorced, but he had a comfortable job. No reported mental illness. A healthy social life as far as we can tell. Not to mention there was a broken window found at the scene, so there’s the possibility someone broke in there to murder him.”

Ameile finally caved to the pressure. “Yes, yes I killed him.”

“And why’s that?”

“Lukas was ex-Talon, but he was more than that. He was one of the scientists who turned me into Widowmaker, altering my brain patterns to make me more obedient. 

“What about your trip in Montreal?” Jack asked, “Did you kill anyone there too?”

Ameile resumed her silence, not wanting to explain herself again.

“You know we’ll find out if you did either way. It will save us the trouble. After all, it wasn’t too hard figuring out what happened in Cologne.”

“Fine, I did.”

“Who then?”

“Her name was Viollette Barteaux. She was ex-Talon too, a spy. She figured out I was Gerard’s wife.”

“If you don’t mind us asking, how did you figure these things out?”

“It was all me,” Siegfried chimed in. “I gave Ameile those names.”

“So how did you get those names then?” Jack directed at the German. “Siegfried. . ?”

“Paulis. My last name is Paulis. I watched Talon torture this undeserving woman. Saw he turn into Widowmaker before my eyes. I remember who was involved in those experiments. The least I could do was let Ameile know who exactly did this to her.”

“You know, your name did come up in the vast amount of Sombra intel we picked up in Vietnam. Care to explain why you’re in her databases?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s keeping track of other former Talon people? Trying to stop them from ruining her plans? I have no idea.”

Jack made a mental note to himself. Siegfried’s explaination was rather roundabout. Not a very direct answer. He needed to look over what showed up on this man again. See if there was anything else he missed. 

“Look Ameile,” Winston brought the conversation back around, “we clearly cannot condone you going out killing those who wronged you.

Ameile braced herself for whatever punishment was heading her way.

“But we think Siegfried may be on to something.”

Both Ameile and Siegfried were taken aback by their sudden acceptance.

“We still have a lot to go through with these Sombra databases. Even with the computer boxes that were erased on arrival, we need to go through everything in fine detail. So anyone with leads on possible Talon splinter group activity outside from those would be appreciated. So how many of these torturers do you remember, Siegfried?”

“At least 10, that are still alive at least,” Siegfried said, excited.

“Is there someone you had in mind you wanted to start off with?”

“Yeah, in Glasgow, I think.”

“Splendid. You can go do your investigating whenever you find suitable supervision.”

“Supervision?” Ameile asked.

“You know, making sure you go off killing anyone that doesn’t need to die.” Jack said. “Keeping you on a leash. We’ll at least allow to pick one person you want to go with you, cause we can really only spare one right now.”

Ameile immediately knew who she wanted with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: 
> 
> Nocturne - Rush  
> My Body is a Cage - Arcade Fire


	5. The Stars Look Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ameile, Siegfried, and Lena arrive in Glasgow for their next target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and next are partly based on the times I went to Glasgow and Dublin.

The sky over Glasgow was clear; the jet’s occupants had no trouble seeing the sprawl of the Scottish city lights below. It was night, so there was no luck seeing any of the surrounding highlands. Ameile was cramped in the tiny cockpit, leaving Siegfried back in his seat, standing behind Lena as she flew the jet towards the airport. Looking through the front windshield, the city wasn’t too bright, but respectable enough.

“So what’s this cousin of yours like?” Ameile asked.

“Oh you’ll love her. She lives in Glasgow for work, which I have to give her props for. The Scots still have some animosity towards the English, with all those independence referendums every so often. And Scotland’s all for Omnic rights, though that’s mainly to piss England off again.”

“Is she, um, energetic?”

“No, she’s not the blistering ray of sunshine I am. More like a few beams coming through a London fog. So typical English. Now if you please buckle up, we’re clear for landing.”

The jet descended from the sky and made a smooth landing. Much smoother than Lena’s been the last few times. Slowing down on the runway, the plane made it’s way towards one of the plane storage hangers. An arrangement was already in place for the jet to be stored here alongside one of the nearby roads. 

Waiting for them outside, once the group left the plane storage hanger, was a sedan, with a woman sporting a denim jacket, artificially curly brown hair, giant-lensed sunglasses and the same kind of skin-tight leggings Lena sported, though her slightly bigger legs didn’t allow her to pull the look off as well.

This was Alexandra Oxton. Lena’s cousin. 

“Alex!” Lena shouted out, blinking ahead to hug her cousin.

“Lena, woah!” Alexandra said, caught off balance by her sudden appearance. “Watch it, you could knock me on my ass!”

“I’ve had this thing for close to nine years. You telling me you’re not used to it by now?”

“We’re still getting used to you being alive. You still wear those stupid shoes with the holes on top?”

“These sneakers look stupid to you?” Lena raised her legs up, sporting a new pair of silver Nikes. “But yeah, those are just for missions.”

Ameile and Siegfired had caught up to the two Oxtons at this point. “Oh, these are the guests. This is Ameile Lacroix and her boyfriend, Siegfried Paulis. She’s my Overwatch partner in crime. Team, this is Alexandra Oxton.”

“Pleasure’s mine, mates. Just call me Alex,” Alex said, shaking their hands.

“Bonjour,” Ameile responded.

“Ooh, a Frenchie. Come on love, say something French.”

“Je prefererais ne pas.” (I’d prefer not to)

“Don’t know what that meant, but it’s good enough for me. Let me help with those,” Alex said reaching for the bags set on the ground.

“We can manage,” Siegfried urged her not to.

“As your host, I insist.”

“There’s very sensitive equipment in these.”

“How sensitive?” Alex whispered. “Is it guns?”

“For if the possibility comes up.”

“Fine. Okay,” Alex said pulling her hands back. “I didn’t want anything to do with your guns anyway.”

The three travellers loaded their luggage up in the sedan’s trunk. One bag was still left over, so Ameile put that in the backseat space between her and Siegfried. Lena sat in the front seat as Alex started the car up, driving towards the heart of the city.

“So Ameile, what’s your deal?” Alex asked from the driver’s seat. “What do you do with ol’ cuz here?”

“I’m a sniper,” Ameile replied, straight and to the point.

“Is that it?”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory.”

“Do you go for headshots? How many people have you killed?”

Ameile was uncomfortable at the thought. Having to say how many she killed. “I, I. . . I try to avoid killing. Only if the mission calls for them.”

“Oh, so it’s like in the rules or something?”

“That, and I had some, . . bad experiences in the field.”

“So, where is it we’re staying?” Siegfried asked, feeling cramped in the backseat.

“My place is in Govan, pretty close to the River Clyde. You’re lucky you came here this weekend instead of last, cause of the Old Firm match. Did I mention it’s down the street from Ibrox Stadium too? Oh man, last weekend a bunch of Rangers fans got their heads caved in and police fought the Celtic crowd back. It’s gotten really bad since Celtic got promoted back.”

“What did they get demoted for? I lost track of that,” Lena asked.

“One of Celtic’s defenders turned out to be an Omnic. And the Scottish FA said it gave them an unfair advantage, not to mention all the FIFA legal stuff. I mean, Scotland’s pretty progressive on Omnic equality, but apparently not enough that they can play pro sport with humans. You think they’d go all the way with that new Omnium near Dundee, but nope.”

“Me and Ameile work with Omnics too. I’d like to think their situation’s better since we stopped the second crisis.”

“Thank God I don’t live in England then. It’s still a hellhole. You remember what happened after that Mondatta guy was shot? All that anti-Omnic graffiti from Portsmouth to Newcastle?”

“I was there. On King’s Row.”

“You were? Shulda figured you would be. Did you see who did it?”

“They, um,” Lena turned her head for a quick look at Ameile, who was shaking her head side to side, indicating her not to tell, “got away before I could figure out who. It was Talon though, I learned later.”

“What I wouldn’t give to give that killer a piece of my mind. But they’re probably rotting away in a cell somewhere.”

“So Alex,” Ameile asked, wanting to lighten the mood. “You got any embarrassing Lena stories?”

“Do I!”

“No, no. nope, she doesn’t need to hear any now,” Lena urged her cousin not to.

“Did Lena ever tell you she went through a punk rock phase?”

“Punk rock? Really Lena?”

“I’m telling you, they don’t need to know this.”

“Of course, this was back in school before she joined the RAF, and Overwatch after that. Oh she had ear piercings, pink hair, leather jackets and skirts, goggles with skulls on them, listening to stuff you can really have a good mosh to, calling crusty old dudes left and right tossers and wankers.”

“Wow Lena, I would’ve thought you’d bond with Aleksandra over the pink hair.”

“Who? I’m right here.” Alex asked.

“She’s another teammate of ours. Aleksandra Zaryanova.”

“The Russian weightlifter? You work with her too? What I wouldn’t pay for her to crush me.”

“Get in line. I’m sure more people besides her girlfriend would like that.”

“She’s taken? Ah, what a pity. But back to Lena. She was playing football for her secondary school too. She hardly scored but man was she fast.”

“I’m still fast, you know.”

“You remember how daft you looked? Running around the pitch with pink hair and all those earrings, and hardly any goals to show for it?”

“It was quite the show.”

“And then you were giving your teammates kisses after the matches too? Where everyone could see?”

“Ooh la la,” Ameile mockingly said. Lena could never imagine her face getting this hot as she buried it in her crossed arms.

“What was it you said to your mum? Playing sport and kissing some girls on the cheek doesn’t make me a lesbian?”

“I’m an affectionate person!” Lena shouted.

“Yeah, hard to convince your mum otherwise. Even after you started bringing boys home. What did she say when your girl friends stopped by? Don’t have your bedroom door closed? Or was it don’t go upstairs where I can’t find you?”

“You should go back to pink hair,” Ameile said trying to touch Lena’s spiked hair. “I think it’ll look hip.”

“No, it was stupid. Besides, Mum said it was never military proper.”

“Shows you what she knew about military fashion if you go out fighting in leggings all the time.”

“Ah, we’re pulling up now,” Alex told her passengers.

Alex’s apartment was in one of the old, mass produced apartment complexes along the River Clyde. The old building materials looked like they could crumble any day now, yet they’ve held for over 50 years at least. Glasgow, like many other cities looking towards the future, was concerned more with building brand new instead of improving what was already there. 

On the fourth floor of one of the buildings, Alex’s apartment was designed just for two people. It contained a living room, small kitchen space, one cramped bathroom, and one bedroom. A wide rollaway bed was set up beside the one window, wide enough to take up the space between that and the couch. A shag carpet lined the living room floor, with the couch, table and TV present. Plenty of dust lined the flat surfaces

Alex started apologizing for the conditions immediately. “Sorry, I don’t have company like this often. The rollaway bed’s from a lad downstairs. And someone’s gonna have to sleep on the couch. Or on the floor if that’s what you want.”

“Ameile and I will take the rollaway,” Siegfried quickly claimed. 

“Guess I got the couch,” Lena mumbled. 

 

Alex woke up in the morning taking part in her usual routine. Lay out a dress for school, brush teeth, take a shower, make sure her hair was curled how she wanted, and got dressed. She packed up some graded quizzes, which she needed to go over with her various students.

Walking out of her room to the kitchen, she found her three guests up in their pajamas. Ameile had a navy blue top on and matching velvet pants. Lena had an Overwatch shirt with bottoms covered with the Scottish flag. Siegfried wore flannel bottoms and a solid, grey shirt, eating a granola bar, and ready to go over details of their mission.

“Oi,” Alex said, starting to eat a bowl of Shreddies. “Can I listen in on this?”

“This is very sensitive information, we can’t just have bystanders know,” Siegfried scolded her.

“Come on, I’m just a teacher’s assistant. What would I know what to do with all this espionage shit?”

“You won’t tell anyone?” Lena wanted to know.

“Would I ever rat out ol’ cousin here?” 

Siegfried passed around a laptop, showing images of their person of interest, a short haired, dark skinned Polynesian man. “This is our target, Afah Talei. He’s from Tonga and came to Europe after his brother signed a professional rugby contract. He joined Talon because they offered him money after the brother’s contract couldn’t support his whole family, along with his own disillusionment about living so far from home.” 

“Is that Nemia Talei’s brother?” Alex interrupted.

“If he’s a rugby player, yes.”

“Yeah Nemia plays for the Warriors. Had a wicked three-try game against Connacht last week. He used to play for Leinster, so they must’ve been in Ireland before coming here. Before I go, I have to ask. What time will you be back?”

“We don’t know,” Siegfried responded. “This could take a while.”

“You need the spare key in case you come back before I do? My school lets out at 3, so I’ll be back around 3:15.”

Siegfried started getting annoyed with his host. “I’m sure we’ll get back late.”

“Should I pick some food up for you all?” 

“Nah, we’ll get something out,” Lena said.

“See you loves later. I imagine you try to be careful about these things, but could you not shoot anyone around here? ‘Preciate it,” Alex told the threesome before heading out.

“So what did Talei have to do with Widowmaker?” Ameile asked once Alex left.

“Here’s the thing,” Siegfried said unsure of how to put this. “Not that much.”

“What do you mean not that much?” Ameile shouted. 

“Look, he was one of the soldiers forced to do training sessions with you. Big, strong, muscular island person. The reason we’re going after him now is for more information. In all honesty, my leads on other Talon people have dried up.”

“But you told Winston you knew at least 10 others.”

“Ah, that was just so they’d agree to this.”

Both Lena and Ameile started shouting at Siegfried over each other. Lena saying she ought to have him thrown out of the mission for lying. Ameile saying she wanted bigger fish to fry than some lesser goon.

“Listen, listen you two. If this goes well, we’ll have more than enough info on other ex-Talon agents. And when you get back to Gibraltar, your leaders will be all ‘Sorry we ever doubted you Siegfried. You sure helped us out.’”

“Okay, okay,” Ameile reluctantly said, accepting that she would have to take what she could get. “We’ll still do this. Where to start?”

“Where else? The rugby ground.”

After they all got dressed, with Ameile foregoing wearing her official uniform for discreet street clothes, the team spent the day patrolling the streets of Glagsow, though wisely carrying their weapons in bags. Their first stop was heading towards the Glasgow Warriors training ground, hoping to find Nemia Talei. Across the River Clyde next to a rail line, the rugby team was having a practice session, preparing for an upcoming game against Cardiff.

“’Scuse me, is Nemia Talei here?” Lena asked one of the coaches, showing her Overwatch I.D. “We have some questions for him.” 

“He do anything wrong?” the coach replied.

“Himself no. It has to deal with his brother.”

“Talei! Get over here!” the coach shouted. As his beckoning, a dark-skinned, muscular player with long wavy hair in a striped practice pinnie made his way over, towering over the three of them.

“Nemia Talei?” Lena asked.

“Yeah, what is this about?” the player responded.

“Your brother, Afah. He used to work for Talon, correct?”

“He . . . did, but not anymore. We don’t talk about it.”

“My good man,” Siegfried butted in. “We have reason to believe your brother would know some things which could be beneficial to Overwatch. Mainly about some other former Talon people like himself.”

“Why would you assume such a thing? He was just a regular troop for them.”

Siegfried got in closer to emphasize his next point. “Let me tell you something. I used to be with Talon too. And we get pretty close with each other. You have to considering you’re causing anarchy around the world and everyone wants your heads on a silver platter. And now that that’s gone, he must try and see them every once in a while, correct?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Siegfried,” Ameile urged, wanting him to back off. “Don’t do anything rash, in the open.”

“Okay liebling, calm down,” Siegfried reassured her, before turning his attention back to Talei. “All I’m saying is he would be of much use to us, helping track down other wrongdoers. We’ll be doing him a huge favor, having him in our protection.”

“Your protection? You can’t just take him from us.”

“You must be the breadwinner of your family right? Coming all the way from Tonga and all to play this sport. Think of it as lightening your load.”

Talei didn’t give an immediate response, but was just in thought for a few seconds. Lena had momentarily paid more attention to the other players in the middle of their drills.

“Okay, I’ll tell you where he is. The place is 222 George St. Apartment 3C on the top floor. But don’t take him away! Alright?”

“No need to worry. We’ll at least ask first. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Lena, let’s go,” Ameile called out, getting the Brits attention. They walked out of the ground to their new destination, not noticing Talei asking for a phone call before returning to practice.

With the potential address in hand, the team made their way back east to downtown. After walking and taking a bus over the course of an hour. They ended up against an old red sandstone building, three floors high like they were told. People were constantly flowing in and out the building as midday passed.

“We can’t go through inside,” Siegfried said to himself. “Would cause too much commotion.”

“Follow me,” Ameile led the team around back, where a grassy courtyard lay. Before either of the two could ask what she had in mind, Ameile dug out her grappling hook gauntlet out of one of the bags, adorned it, and shot it up at the roof, managing to hit one of the stone ornaments.

“Don’t worry, I have enough cord with me,” Ameile reassured the other two before gathering her bag. “I’ll come back down for you,” she said before sailing upward.

True to her word, Ameile did come back down. First for Siegfried, then Lena. When pulling Lena up, Ameile could swear Lena leaned her head into her shoulder. She couldn’t confirm from constantly looking up. Once they were on the roof, Ameile went to work assembling her blue-yellow rifle, putting her earpiece in, and making sure her visor fit.

“Which room is he in?” Lena wondered.

“The one right below here,” Ameile said with a foot on the ledge.

“How do you know?”

“There was a marking on the window I saw. 3C. Spot me, would you?”

Ameile latched her grappling hook on some stone on the ledge. She repelled down to reach the window. She pushed herself back on and off a couple of times, before gathering enough force to finally break through. Landing on the carpeted floor, she turned her infrared visor on, scanning her surroundings. There were no visible heat signatures. Going into the bedroom, Ameile went through the drawers and cabinets. There were plenty of solid colored t-shirts and shorts thrown about the floor before she arrived. Men’s and women’s clothes, with plenty of size variation. And she thought some small clothes made for pre-teens were thrown in too. Whoever lived here, they left in a hurry. And they were probably tipped off. Looking around, she found a notepad on a nightstand with some addresses scribbled out. Another lead, perhaps? She took it to examine later.

“He’s not here,” Ameile reported back on her earpiece. “By the look of things, he got out in a hurry.”

“Sohn einer nundin!,” (Son of a bitch!) Siegfried cursed, realizing this would take much longer than previously thought, their day’s efforts wasted. “So, what now?” 

“Pub anyone?” Lena recommended.

Back down on the ground, Lena led them to a pub in the city center along Argyle St. a few blocks away from Glasgow Central Station. Called The Bagpipe’s Mold. It was in one of the old wood polished buildings, with windows that had frame designs that belonged in a church, but no stained glass. Inside, nearly everything was made of polished wood except for the leather seat coverings. The bar was a rectangle in the center in a wide space with nearly all the patrons sitting around it.

“Ello govna,” Lena exaggerated, directing it at the bar. “What does it take to get some pints around here?”

The bartender was in the middle of cleaning glasses when he noticed that voice. He turned his white-haired head up to see Lena and her two companions standing at an open space at the bar. “I be damed. ’Ey eryone, its Tracer! 

The patrons were in the middle of singing whatever song played overhead when some turned towards the entrance, noticing Lena’s appearance as well. They cheered for her. Probably the only time in a while they cheered for an English person.

“What brings ye to Glasgow?” the bartender asked.

“Overwatch business, but there’s no harm in taking time out.”

“Come on Tracer, sing a round with us.”

Lena was helped onto the top of the bar, making sure not to knock over any of the patrons’ glasses. The Proclaimers were playing over the speakers, so Lena just led in the chorus.

“Oh I would walk five hundred miles and I would walk five hundred more, just to be the man who walks a thousand miles to fall down at your door! Ya da da da!”

Ameile found this amusing. Lena in her own environment, adored by the British populace, leading in popular song. She wondered if she would ever be this loved back in France. She certainly tried appeasing her fans, but hadn’t reached the point where she’d be comfortable with them like this in public. She was back when Gerard was alive, but some things might be too forgone now.

Once the song was over, Lena came back down to the floor and they found themselves a booth close to the entrance. People would come up to Lena asking to take a picture with her, which she obliged. Far fewer recognized Ameile and no one asked her for anything.

“Pints on te house,” the bartender said, bringing a round of Scottish ale and plates of chips to them. “My son and his Omnic, um, lover were in Numbani during those attacks last year. Anyone who saves his life deserves my gratitude.”

“Thanks love, we’re just going our jobs” Lena replied, starting to drink her glass down. Ameile and Siegfried followed, not enjoying the beer as much.

“Does this happen in every pub you go to?” Ameile asked.

“Name any other famous British Overwatch agents,” Lena dared them to. Despite spending some time with the new recruits, mainly helping Ana train those who wanted to be snipers, Ameile couldn’t remember if any of them were British. 

“See? And that’s why when you’re a respected Overwatch hero, you get free drinks, and plates of chips.”

Ameile took a few chips and dipped them in some vinegar, letting the stinging feeling rest on her tongue before drinking more beer. It tasted very malty, a taste she wasn’t a big fan of. The glass was still pretty big, and Lena drank hers with regular consistency. She felt compelled to keep up.

“What, you want a drinking contest or something?” Lena wondered, noticing the French woman trying to drink hers fast.

“That sounds like a challenge,” Ameile dared. The two clinked mugs and chugged. Ameile gave up after a few sips, having a hard time swallowing her beer, while Lena managed to finish her whole drink.

“Ameile you crazy Frenchie. Never challenge a Brit to a drinking contest!”

“Excuse me, I have to use the bathroom. This beer doesn’t agree with me,” Ameile told them while running off to the back of the bar, trying to find the ladies’ room.

Lena and Siegfried were left alone. Siegfried tried giving Lena a look that said, “I don’t bite.” But Lena didn’t return the favor. Instead she looked at him with discontent, paying more attention to the other patrons, giving them waves and winks. 

Siegfried made a crunched up face when he finished ale, going after some more chips to get the taste out of his mouth.

“What’s with that face?” Lena asked.

“We Germans don’t drink ales much. Mostly lagers.”

“Oh, that tasteless drivel.”

“They can. They just have to be in season.”

Lena broke the conversation; just look out to the other patrons again. 

“You know what Lena?”

“It’s Tracer. We’re here on a mission.”

“Ameile calls you Lena on missions.”

“And you’re not Ameile. Its just Tracer.”

“Ms. Oxton?”

“Nope.”

“Well, Tracer, I’m getting the feeling you don’t like me.”

“Oh, why’s that?”

“You’re being rather cold to me, especially after your little show for everyone else here. I don’t think I recall the last time we were alone like this. It’s usually you and Ameile talking, never you and me. We really don’t know each other that well.”

“Alright Mr. Paulis, because you’re so adamant about it, let me ask you some stuff.”

“I have nothing to hide.”

“How long did you work with Talon?”

“About five, close to six years.”

“What did you really do there?”

“I was just a regular foot soldier. Nothing special.”

“How many people have you killed?”

“That’s up for debate.”

“Are you really from Nuremburg?”

“It says so on my birth certificate.”

“How much of Ameile did you really see?”

“See? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“The torturing. How much did you see?”

“Well, not everything, but enough to scar me.”

“What? Did? You? See?”

“I saw the tortures. Some days it was electroshock, others it was psychological brainwashing, like in that Clockwork Orange movie. Then there was the physical training and beatings. She already had some fighting skills, but Talon just took them to the next level. It was just so heartbreaking seeing someone knocked down and built up like that.” 

“Look, I don’t care what sympathies you have, how many times you two shagged, gone on lovey-dovey holidays, or how often you say I love you, Ameile is my responsibility now.”

“I know that seeing as you’re our ‘supervision,’” Siegfried said making airquotes.

“No, I mean her life is my responsibility. You didn’t she what she was like those first few days back. Scared, nervous, wanting to kill herself. I helped her rebuild herself in ways Angela and Zenyatta couldn’t. Having fun whenever she could, getting assimilated into the team. It’s the least I could do to erase all the harm she’s done.”

“Tracer, could you be jealous?”

“Pfsh, jealous of what?”

“That your friend found happiness on her own? Is in a relationship? You’re not in one at the moment.”

“Everyone goes at their own pace.”

“Or could it be something else?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Ameile are close, I’ll admit that. You obviously knew each other before I met her this time around, so I can’t say what your relationship was like before then. Other than, of course, trying to kill each other. What do you do with the time you spend together when I’m not around? Talk about life? Missions? Something more? And there’s that tidbit about you openly kissing other girls when you were younger. Do you still do that? And why would you take it upon yourself to say ‘Ameile is my responsibility?’”

Lena didn’t respond. She just continued to give Siegfried a stinkeye.

“You, you’re not pinning for Ameile, are you?”

Again, Lena didn’t respond. Though her cheeks started to blush.

“Well, I can’t say I blame you. She’s quite the specimen.”

Ameile retuned to the table a little bit shaken. “Sorry that took so long, this beer made me throw up. What did I miss?” 

“Nothing,” Siegfried replied, giving Lena the same look she gave him. “Come on Ameile, we should get going,” he said before leaving and heading toward the door.

“Seriously, what did I miss? Did you have a fight or something?”

 

Alex brought home grocery bags with prepared meals inside. She offered to go out for some food after finding the threesome in her apartment after coming home from work, bummed out and going over what to do next. After complaining about how rough her students were that day.

“Okay, I hope you guys like curry, cause that’s what was cheap at Tesco,” Alex explained, also bringing out come packs of Fosters and Boddington’s for everyone to drink. “So did you find your man?”

“No, he slipped away. Lena did put on quite a show at a pub,” Ameile told her.

“Oh? Did someone want you lead a sing-along again?”

“The people love me,” Lena boasted. “You can’t say that for your kids.”

“You putting me on right now?”

“What you mean?”

“Don’t be daft with me, you saying I can’t sing like you?”

“No, what?”

“We’re having a sing-off, X-Factor style,” Alex challenged, pulling out her laptop to play her music. It was mostly the alcohol driving her on.

“Tell me, baby, what we’re gonna do? I’ll make it easy, got a lot to lose. Watch the sunlight coming through. Open the window, let it shine on you. Cause I’ve been sick and working all week and I’ve been doing just fine. You’ve been tired of watch me, forgot to have a good time. You can’t take it all these faces, never keeping it real, I know exactly what you feel.”

Alex got up in Lena’s face while singing the chorus. “When you say you had enough, and you might just give it up, oh oh, I will never let you down. When you’re feeling low on love, I’ll be what you’re dreaming of. Oh oh, I will never let you down.”

“Alright, let me pick something,” Lena turned the song off trying to find a different song.

“Oh you think you can do better?” Alex dared.

“I know I can,” Lena taunted, choosing a song off of the laptop. The song had sharp steady drum and guitar beats. Sure enough, Lena started rapping, her cockney accent not making the others take her seriously at all. But that was how the song was supposed to go.

“See I reckon you’re about an eight or a nine, maybe even a nine and a half in four beers time, That blue top shop top you’ve got on is nice, bit too much fake tan though, but yeah you score high. But there’s just one little thing that’s really really really really annoying me about you you see. Yeah yeah like I said you are really fit. But my gosh, don’t you just know it.”

Lena danced around the apartment singing the chorus line, with Alex and Ameile slowly getting into it.

“I’m not trying to pull you, even though I would like to, I think you are really fit. You’re fit but my gosh don’t you know it.”

“So when I looked at you standing there with your hoard, I was waiting in the queue looking at the board, wondering whether to have a burger or chips or what the shrapnel in my back pocket could afford. When I notice out the corner of my eye, looking toward my direction, your eyes locking onto my course. I couldn’t concentrate on what I wanted to order, which cost my place in the queue I waited for.”

Lena continued on, though Siegfried was the only one who didn’t get it. Ameile ended up laughing, thinking that this was one of the most British things she’s ever heard.

“Yeah yeah your are fit, and yeah I do want it. But I stop sharking for a minute to get chips and drinks.”

Thinking this had gone on for long enough, Siegfried decided to prematurely end the song, walking up to the laptop to change it.

“Hey, I wasn’t finished,” Lena complained.

“Now now you Brits, it’s time to show you how it’s done.”

“What will Mr. Siegfried grace us with?” Alex commented.

When he finished typing, Siegfried responded, “Only the best Germany has to offer.”

Ameile realized what he meant. “Siegfried, don’t you dare!”

Ameile’s warning came too late amid a blast of processed synth riffs coming from the laptop, Siegfried immediately rocking his head up and down, waving his hands

“Good morning!” Siegfried shouted as the song officially got underway, continuing to wave his arms and jump around the couch. The ladies were not into it, with Lena covering up her ears.

“I ramp me no ramp mo no skin me no play yeah. When me chant for the microphone and me say with the DJ. Junglists in the place. junglists on the case. Scooter, are you ready?!”

Siegfried’s voice when up to a comically high pitch to sing the chorus, “When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful, a miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical, and all the birds in the trees, well they’d be singing so happily, so joyfully, oh playfully, watching me.”

“Siegfried, I swear to God,” Ameile urged, as her boyfriend kept bouncing around them.

“Does he do this a lot?” Lena asked, covering her ears.

“Ana’s David Hasselhoff complaints have nothing on this.”

“Love peace and unity, Siberia, the place to be. The K, the L, the F and the –ology. Halleujah!”

“He’s not even rapping anymore, just shouting”

When the song finally finished, Siegfried was out of breath. He got too far into it, and laid back down on the couch tired, squeezing into his spot.

“Come on Ameile, it’s your turn.”

“What? Why do I?” Ameile complained.

“Just sing something in French, you have such a nice voice for it.”

Ameile walked up to the laptop once she finally came up with a choice. It would be in French of course. It would be a tongue and cheek song, like Lena’s. And hopefully it would ruffle up Siegfried for his annoying song choice.

“Cuizinier avec ton petit sexe entoure de polis roux, Je narrive pas a croire, que tu puisses croire quon veuille de toi. Je ny crois pas meme dans le noir, meme sit u gardes ton pyjama. Meme sit u gardes ton peignoir. En forme de tee-shirt ringard.” 

Alex and Lena got into it immediately, with Ameile wandering around the room the same way the others did before.

“Je veux te voir, dans un film pornagraphique, en action avec ta bite, forme potatoes ou bien frites. Pour tout savoir, sur ton anatomie, sur ton cousin Teki, et vos accessoires fetiches.”

From what little French he knew, Siegfried could tell this was meant to rifle him. But he didn’t mind. It was just odd to him hearing Ameile’s throaty voice rap like that.

“Tes posters de Lil Jon recouvrent ceux de Magic Johnson. Ton corps est trop crunk pour assurer les dunks.”

 

Ameile thought she could hear little noises in her sleep, including some German phrases. At least enough to wake her up. Through what little light her eyes could make out, she saw Siegfried fully dressed, just finishing up a conversation on his phone. His bag was fully packed, ready to head out.

“Siegfried, what time is it?” Ameile whispered. 

“Shh, go back to sleep.”

“Where are you going?”

“I finally got another tip. I’m sorry, but I have to go to Germany to follow up.”

“How’re we supposed to find Talei without you?”

“You have all the info. I’m sure you’ll do fine. But let me ask you something. Do you still want to kill this man?”

“Of course I do.”

“I imagine you won’t have much trouble then. There is still one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Watch out for Lena. There are some things she’s not telling you.” Siegfried leaned in to kiss Ameile before leaving. “Auf Wiedersehen, I’ll call you,” he said before heading out the door.

Ameile tried falling back to sleep, but she kept tossing and turning. There was too much open space on the bed to move around. She was also having another dream about being visited by one of her victims, but the thought of Widowmaker appearing again in her mind made it more uncomfortable. Eventually, she just woke up and walked over to the kitchen, drinking some water right out of the faucet. The microwave clock said it was just past 3. 

Heading back to her space, Ameile could see Lena crunched up on the couch, her blanket thrown on the floor from tossing and turning. Her accelerator prevented her from being completely on the cushions. She must be having trouble too, Ameile thought. 

Ameile slowly walked over to the couch, making sure not to knock anything over or cause too much noise. “Lena,” she nudged the Brit trying to wake her up.

“Uuuuugh, Ameile?” Lena slowly woke, notably out of it. “What is it?”

“Would you like to sleep with me?”

Lena may have been drowsy, but she still couldn’t believe what she heard. “Whaaaat?”

“Siegfried had to leave. He said he had to deal with something back in Germany. I saw how uncomfortable you are on this couch and maybe you’d want something comfy.”

“But, he can’t fly himself.”

“He can still buy plane tickets.”

“At this time of night?”

“Look, I’m having trouble sleeping on that giant bed on my own, and I could use company.”

“Okay, I’m coming over.”

“You’re on the left side,” Ameile ordered with Lena obeying, both lying down on their designated sides, pulling the sheets over themselves “Goodnight.”

“G’night love.”

Ameile laid on her side facing the couch, trying to fall back to sleep, wondering what important thing Siegfried had to go after. Must remember to call him in the daytime to ask. She could feel a hand reaching over to rest on her stomach.

“Stop that.”

“Come on, . . . .it’ll help,” Lena muttered.

“I don’t want that metal thing up against my back.”

“I can take it off.”

“No, you don’t have to.”

“It’s possible, me going a whole night without. It just has to be like on the floor or somewhere next to me on the bed.”

“Lena,” Ameile turned to face the still drowsy girl. “Just go to sleep.”

“Oh fine,” Lena said, turning her body to face the window

After ten minutes, Ameile still couldn’t sleep. She kept opening her eyes looking into the room’s darkness, with Lena’s outline facing away from her. Maybe her touch would help. What would the harm in that be? Besides, what would Lena have to hide anyway? Siegfried didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Okay Lena, you win,” Ameile moaned, dragging the Brit’s left arm over her stomach. The accelerator against her back felt cold, but somehow comforting. She could also feel Lena’s head messing around with her hair, trying to nuzzle its way to her head. “Bonne nuit.” (Goodnight)

“Goodnight love,” Lena responded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, it gets somewhat gayer from here.
> 
> Soundtrack:
> 
> The Stars Look Down - Rush  
> I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) - The Proclaimers  
> I Will Never Let You Down -Rita Ora  
> Fit But You Know It - The Streets  
> The Logical Song - Scooter  
> Je Veux Te Vois - Yelle


	6. How It Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ameile and Lena spend a day exploring Glasgow before continuing their mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, this is where Lena/Ameile starts taking off. Can I call this Lacroixton instead of Widowtracer? I saw that term around tumblr before.
> 
> Once more based on some experiences I had in Glasgow.

Ameile found herself in a forest lying in snow, wearing her nightwear. A long trail of footsteps went on behind her that ultimately turned into long strokes from dragging her knees. How long was she doing this? She had no idea. The trail went on for what looked like miles behind her. And she could see no destination ahead of her through the trees.

Ameile didn’t like being alone like this. It meant the one she feared most was lurking somewhere.

“I thought you were better than this,” the familiar voice said. Widowmaker wasn’t far behind, come again to taunt her.

“It’s a shame you can feel yourself freezing out here. I can’t feel the cold.”

“It’s just a dream. This is all a dream,” Ameile muttered to herself, shivering.

“Doesn’t make it any less painful now. Now get moving!”

Ameile could feel herself dragging her legs in the snow, not of her will. Widowmaker walked in front of her, giving a full view of the spider tattoo on her back and the curves of her skintight suit.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Nowhere in particular. This is just some more fun for me.”

“Widowmaker never enjoyed torturing people like this. She only felt something after killing.”

“Since I only exist in your head for the time being, the rules have changed. Besides, seeing someone fall apart like you are now, it feels just as good as killing.”

“Why? What’s even happening?”

“I said I’d make you see you haven’t changed. And I take it’s working.”

“No it’s not! I’m a dedicated Overwatch agent now.”

“Tell me, where are you right now in the real world?”

“Glasgow.”

“And why are you there?”

“A mission to get info.”

“Don’t fool yourself. You’re there to kill.”

“No I’m not. Besides, Lena’ll stop me from doing anything rash.”

“How many times did I best Tracer? You think that’ll be any different now?” Widowmaker turned around to acknowledge her captive. Ameile was still on her knees, her face flush red, shivering for whatever warmth she could.

“It’s only a matter of time before you give in,” Widowmaker taunted. “The desire to kill is ingrained on your soul. No amount of reconditioning can take that away. The sooner you realize that, the better. Then things can go back to how they should be.”

Ameile could hardly come up with a response, giving all the shivering she was doing.

“If you keep resisting like this, I’ll have to resort to other means. Maybe something to do with Tracer.”

Ameile couldn’t take anymore. With what little strength she could feel, Ameile stood up, one foot at a time deep in the snow. She punched Widowmaker hard enough to send her into a snowpile.

“I’m nothing like you!” Ameile shouted. But there was a bizarre sensation inside her. She stopped shivering. She couldn’t feel the cold around her anymore. And Widowmaker knew it.

“Bien fait ma cherie,” (Well done my dear) Widowmaker taunted one last time.

Ameile shot up out of her sheets in another cold sweat, breathing heavily. The sun shone bright through the thin curtains. She turned to her side to find Lena, already awake, but concerned.

“You okay love? You’re turning around a lot before.” 

“I, just had a nightmare. About Widowmaker.”

“What happened?”

“It was just in a forest and she made me crawl in the snow. And she said I never changed, I still wanted to kill for the sake of killing. Lena, it was terrible!”

“It’ll be alright. Nothing can hurt you now. Come here,” Lena spread her arms open wide, waiting for Ameile to dive in. She ended up resting her head on Lena’s shoulder, the Brit enclosing her and rubbing her hands against her back. She also gave a kiss against her temple, trying to fight through the black hair to reach the skin.

“Know what you need? A proper Scottish breakfast. You’re getting the whole works.”

Lena quickly made her way to the kitchen space, pulling out some eggs, sausage, bread, pudding, and scones out of the fridge. She turned on the stove and pulled out some pans, getting ready to fry the eggs and sausage. She also put some bread in the toaster. Ameile tried getting up further when she realized their host was missing.

“Where’s Alex?”

“She left already. Had to take care of some things before school starts. You just stay in bed. We’re having an us day.”

“But the mission. We’re here to get info on,”

“Don’t you worry about any mission today. No guns, no possible involvement with Talon people. It’s just you, me and Glasgow. You ever seen Scotland before?” 

“Can’t say I have.”

“I have everything planned out. Well, in my head at least.”

“What then?

“First we’re going to Kelvingrove. There’s a park and museum there I think you’d like. Then we’re going back through downtown so I can tell you all about Glasgow and why it deserves more credit than Edinburgh. I know how much you’re into old churches lately, so we’ll go to the cathedral after that. Then there’s something called the Necropolis right next to it.”

“Necropolis?”

“It’s a giant cemetery on top of a hill. You get amazing views of the city up there.”

Ameile didn’t respond. Just the thought of going somewhere called the Necropolis sent a chill up her spine.

“Or, we don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable.”

“No, it sounds great,” Ameile reassured her. “I’d like to go.”

“You sure? There’s probably going to be some Overwatch people buried there.”

“If that’s where you want to go, I’m fine with it.” 

“And tonight, we’re definitely going out. Not sure where yet, but we’re gonna. Breakfast is ready!”

Lena carried over two plates, both with poached eggs, cooked sausage links, toast, a few fruit puddings, and a scone on each. She sat across from Ameile on the bed on top of the sheets covering her legs, handing over her plate.

“This is a bit much, you think?”

“I said you’d get the works. It could be worse. Could be nothing but baked beans.”

“Illck.”

“I know, right?

Ameile first ate one of the puddings, finding the taste rather sweet. Lena looked on waiting for some kind of approval, that everything was to her liking.

“So, whatcha think?”

“C’est merveilleux.” (It’s wonderful)

“Glad you like it,” Lena said in the middle of eating a piece of toast. “I should do this more often.”

After finishing up their meal and getting cleaned up, the two set out on their journey. Instead of taking any cabs, Lena opted for walking to their destinations, with Lena having one of her arms wrapped around Ameile’s arm. First, the Kelvingrove museum, a giant brown sandstone complex just outside the University of Glasgow. A large stone atrium awaited them on the inside, leading to the art and history exhibits. An organ player had just finished up their first performance of the day.

“Two tickets please,” Ameile tried asking someone at a desk, though Lena, still holding her arm, urged her to just walk by.

“UK museums are free. Even if you did pay, I’m sure we’d get a discount.”

Ameile gave a brief chuckle. “So, where do you want to go first?”

“How ‘bout we split up and meet back here in, let’s say, 2 hours?”

“Deal.”

Lena got lost in the exhibits on the ground floor about dinosaurs, Scottish geology, and other historical artifacts. History may not have been her best school subject, but she was more than willing to try and learn. Ameile, meanwhile, went upstairs to look at the various art displays. The first she saw was of old Dutch and Flemish painters, like Rembrandt and de Lairesse. The hyperrealism from so long ago, from such a primitive era, impressed her certainly, but didn’t get an emotional response. Even from one painting of a Roman soldier in such detail. That was the purpose of art, right? To get an emotional response from onlookers? Feeling she’d seen enough, Ameile wandered out of this exhibit to the next one.

Ameile then wandered into a room displaying paintings of French artists. The works of impressionists like Monet and Renoir were most prominent. Instead of staring at those loosely defined paintings, she found one of a little girl standing in a field only accompanied with a cow, covered with a brown blanket that may as well have been rags. She throught she could see a brown dress covering her legs, but couldn’t be sure. Ameile found herself staring at it for longer than she intended to. It reminded her how alone she really was as Widowmaker. And the first few days back in the world as herself. Before she managed to get off her ass and help Overwatch take down Talon.

“Poor Fauvette, by Jules Bastien-Lepage,” a voice startled Ameile. She saw what appeared to be either a curator or tour guide, an old white-haired woman, standing beside her. She would never let something like that happen on the battlefield. “I noticed you’re quite taken with this work.”

“I suppose I am,” Ameile replied, in what came out close to a mutter.

“Any particular reason?”

“Just, how this girl looks so alone, desperate for some meaningful interaction. It reminds me of a past time in my life.”

“This is supposed to be in a village in Northeastern France. From your accent, is that where you’re from?”

“Est France, oui. Close to Switzerland.”

The woman gave Ameile the once-over before continuing. “You work for Overwatch, don’t you? I thought I recognized you. Huntress, is it?”

“Oui, but don’t tell anyone I’m here.”

“Takin some time off I see? Well, I won’t keep you too long then. Enjoy your stay,” the guide said before leaving her alone. Ameile thought it was best to move on too.

Ameile came across one darkened room people were huddled outside an archway to get inside, with a sign saying “No Pictures” beside it. With her curiosity peaked, she walked over. Inside, she saw the masterwork. A painting of Jesus hanging on the cross, but instead on being on the ground, it was floating above a lake and clouds, with Jesus’ face hanging out of view. It was illuminated with a faint light coming from the ceiling.

“Christ of Saint John on the Cross by Salvador Dali,” a sign next to the painting said in the same faint light. “One of the most controversial depictions of Jesus, it features no nails, no blood, and no crown of thorns. The face of Jesus is also obscured from views. The vision appeared to Dali in a dream one night. He used a professional stuntman to get the angles and shadows just right.”

Despite her non-religious nature, Ameile was moved by this work too. Mainly how bizarre it was. Then she found the idea of Jesus flying around the world on the cross amusing, and started chuckling to herself, not so loud to disturb others. It wasn’t as beautiful as the painting of the little girl from earlier, she thought, but she could see why people liked it.

Ameile saw her time was almost over, so she made her way back to the museum entrance. Walking back down the grand staircase to the atrium, she found Lena taking a group picture with some kids. Even in casualwear, Lena was a dead giveaway in any crowd. She saw Ameile making her way over and decided to send the kids on their way

“Alright, time for me to head out.” Lena addressed the group of youngsters. “Remember what I said to you?”

“The world could always use more heroes!” the kids shouted back.

“Right! Hopefully, I’ll see you all soon,” she finished with as Ameile was now next to her. “Ready to move on?” 

“Yes.” Ameile replied, offering her arm. 

The two walked down wide streets through the downtown area while Lena tried reciting what Scottish history she did know about. Mainly how Scotland was once it’s own country in medieval times and every instance Scotland tried seceding from the UK since it was created. Ameile was pretty sure some of the instances Lena said were made up. For one thing, she knew the actor Mel Gibson wasn’t Scottish. Also, the Scottish actors from Lena’s show didn’t have time machines. No amount of old police boxes they found on the streets would convince her otherwise.

Walking through the central high-rise area, which they already did the day before, Lena occasionally pointed out stores that sold kilts and other tartan-designed products, with bagpipe music blasting out into the street. There were jokes made about how the Overwatch men would look wearing such things. They mutually agreed only Jesse and Lucio would bother giving it a chance. 

Much like in Montreal, the Glasgow Cathedral opened itself up to followers of all faiths. In doing so, other non-Christian iconography was included. Given the large open area that greeted visitors usually, there was plenty of space for the faiths to set up their own worship areas. These included the Iris, Islam, Hinduism, and Buddhism. This was before the wooden wall separating the main Christian worship area came up.

Lena and Ameile spent most of their time in front of the Iris worship space. Both were lost in thought. Lena was thinking about how to convince Ameile that this guy, Afah Talei, isn’t worth the trouble. There’s nothing this guy won’t know that all those Sombra files they had wouldn’t reveal otherwise. And given the way Siegfried acted yesterday, he was up to more than he was letting on.

Ameile thoughts turned to her dream. Why are these happening now? She had previous nightmares about hypotheticals: if she was forced back to being Widowmaker, if Overwatch never saved her, if she had completely lost her sanity and did something truly hurtful. But this was different. Widowmaker never directly spoke to her before. Certainly not before she went on her revenge. Was Widowmaker right? Or on her way to being right? She really needed more help from Zenyatta and Angela to really figure this out.

Once they were both satisfied with the inside, Ameile and Lena went back outside to scale the Necropolis.

The way to the Necropolis was on a stone bridge over a street, and from there it’s all uphill. Either left or right, people who enter make it their task to reach the top, walking past so many graves and mausoleums in the process. Lena took it all in stride, eager to reach the top as fast as she could without blinking. Ameile, meanwhile, took more time to breathe in her surroundings. Simply the size and height of the place stunned her. True to Lena’s word, there were plenty of graves here. Way more than she was expecting. Some of the gravestones passing by bore the Overwatch logo above the person’s name. How many of these people’s deaths was she responsible for? She had no idea.

Upon reaching the top, there were memorial markers for various Scottish veterans. One was for their service to Scotland in general, one for those in the UK armed forces, and one for those who served in Overwatch. The city view wasn’t as impressive as Ameile hoped, but she still saw plenty of old and new buildings, with enough space in between to see the highlands in the distance. Lost in thought, alone with Lena, she wanted her opinion on the whole matter.

“Lena, I need to get something off my chest.” 

“Oh, what is it?”

“Before we came here, Zenyatta told me I needed to cut off whoever was feeding my desire for revenge. That I wouldn’t really find peace until I do.” 

“I suppose that’s plausible.”

“You think I should break up with Siegfried?”

Lena immediately wanted to say yes. She didn’t like his attitude from yesterday. Plus, he was right. She did wish Ameile was with her instead. But anytime other than the right moment, which Siegfried might ruin, could potentially ruin their friendship. She wanted to tell Ameile her true feelings in due time. 

“Umm, why would you? Don’t you still like him?”

“You saw how he acted yesterday, in the field, in the apartment, and whatever you two were fighting about. He clearly has some investment in this I’m not sure of yet. But I mean, yeah, there was a time I did feel genuine attraction and want to see him. Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Oh?”

“Because, what if I do go through with this and kill everyone who turned me into Widowmaker? Siegfried’s the one giving me the names. What’s he gonna do once there aren’t any left? Never want to see me again?”

“Based on your body, I don’t think he’d want to.”

“You know this isn’t just about sex right?”

“You met him in what was supposed to be a one-night stand!”

“Well I’m sorry for needing someone in my life like that!”

Both of them went silent, neither sure how to proceed next. They never argued with each other like this.

“I’m sorry,” Ameile apologized. “I guess I’m a bit fragile right now.”

“I’d imagine you are. With your, . . history and all.”

Ameile was about to shout at Lena again for implying anything related to Gerard right now, but reeled herself back. “It’s just, I want that part of my life to be perfect, you know? But I don’t want to risk losing something else I have a personal investment in. You understand?”

“I understand completely,” Lena consoled her with another hug before making their way out of the cemetery.

When they came back to Alex’s place, their host already had some food ready; pre-prepared sandwiches from Pret A Manger. Dinner was mostly spent listening to Alex complain about the rowdy kids she had to deal with. 

“You two enjoy yourselves?” Alex asked once she was done venting.

“Yeah, and I’m taking Ameile out clubbing later. You know this town better than me. Where should we go?”

“Depends. You wanna get fucked or fuuuucked?”

“Fuuuuucked!” Lena replied back in the same obnoxious tone. Ameile had a hard time figuring out the context of each “fucked”

“Well try the Bodyshop then. This other place by the Central Station is mainly for finding hookups. And I can see how that ended up for Ameile here.”

“Got anything nice for her to wear?”

“Maybe, give me a tic. With her curves, it’s gonna bit a tight fit. Wish I could go. I got stuck with all these quizzes to grade.”

“What’s wrong with what I have now?” Ameile asked. The clothes she had were dark jeans and a navy sweater.

“You’re gonna sweat yourself to death,” Lena commented.

“You’re more a dark color person, right?” Alex shouted while going through her closet.

“Whatever you think is best.”

“How about this?” Alex brought back out a dark purple dress. While the Oxtons both thought it suited her perfectly, Ameile was put off by the color. Something about that particular shade of purple. It reminded her too much of Widowmaker’s outfit.

“I’m, . . not sure.”

“This the only thing I have even close to your measurements, I’m guessing. It’s this or nothing.”

“Alright I’ll try it,” Ameile relented, taking the dress and making her way to the bathroom, closing the door. The things I do for Lena, Ameile cursed to herself. She stripped down to her undergarments, then held the dress up against her front. Yeah, this could fit. Would it be better without a bra? The dress’s straps would definitely cover her bra straps, but the cut in front did go down rather low for her liking. Enough to show her chest scar. What kind of occasions did Alex need this for? 

The color somehow still unsettled her. She soldiered through by telling herself she wasn’t going to be the one looking at this it. So she tossed her bra aside and slipped the dress on over her head. Once everything got settled, Ameile looked at her reflection once more. Somehow, it fit her perfectly. Once the back was zipped up of course. It accentuated her curves, but was loose enough below the waist to let her body breathe. Her scar did show, along with some of the back tattoo when she spun around.

“Vous etes belle,” (You look beautiful) Ameile told herself. Satisfied with the result, she went back out to the living area.

“How do I look?” Ameile asked the Oxtons.

“Sensational!” Lena replied.

Lena’s outfit was a blue blouse, loose enough to hide her accelerator under, and a pair of slacks. When they were both fully ready, around 10 pm, the two agents made their way down to The Bodyshop. The façade had an old 20th century car busting out of a brick wall. It was leftover from its previous incarnation, “The Garage.” Inside, the club had many different themed areas for different styles of music. The main hall was for current dance, while others included hip-hop, old rock music, and classic disco/funk. Each one with their own DJ, bar, dance area, and places to sit. The two passed by the main area in favor of the one that played the old rock music.

Upon reaching their desired area, with red walls lining the place and rather basic spotlights shining different colors down, the two found open seats against one of the walls while Lena went to get drinks. She brought back two glasses with a bright neon blue drink inside, handing one to Ameile.

“This right here is Rocket Fuel. A mixture of gin, vodka, scotch, grenadine, amaretto, and fruit juice.”

Ameile took a sip. “Mmm, it is fruity, kind of like,” she cut off once the alcohol went down her throat, causing her to retch over and cough. “Dieu, that’s a lot.”

“I plan on downing three of these, so you better keep up,” Lena took a swig from her glass. Ameile followed, trying to keep herself in order. It tasted better the more she drank.

“So, about your predicament, to clarify. You don’t love this guy anymore, but he’s giving you all these names you can use. And you’re not sure if he loves you back, but it’s too risky either way? Is that it?”

“Pretty much.”

“We have Sombra’s database. That can tell us more than the one person we’re after.”

“You never worked with Sombra. She could have all sorts of viruses or dead-ends set up to mislead whoever goes snooping in there.”

“Oh sorry, because someone else who worked for Talon too is so much more trustworthy.”

“He at least has seen these people face to face. Sombra was one of the higher ups like me and Gabriel. She hardly associated with people beneath her.”

“What he forgot something about them?”

“Lena, you’re not gonna convince me otherwise. I’d like to see this mission the whole way through. Even if Siegfried is getting dumped.”

Even almost all the way through one of the rocket fuels, Ameile was still adamant about finishing this. With or without Siegfried by her, this would be tough. Lena tried a different plan of attack.

“You know what I think? Yes, you should break up with him. You deserve so much better.”

“Who then? You gonna be like Ana and Genji wanting me to ask Hanzo out?”

“Not necessarily. You need someone who really understands what you need. Someone that can emotionally support you when you feel low. And someone who has your back out in battle, who knows every move you make and can anticipate where you’ll end up. Certainly not someone who uses you for their own ends.”

“That sounds familiar. Like a certain British girl I know. You in love with me or something?”

Lena stopped talking, retreating away from Ameile. She figured it out way too soon.

“Lena, what is it?” Ameile took a split-second to process why she retreated, then covered up her mouth upon realizing. Was this what Siegfried warned her about? Was that all?

“Mon dieu, you are.”

“Ameile, don’t take this the wrong way,”

“No, it’s just, just, so what? You’re like my fans I run into who want me to step on them or something?”

“If we’re being honest here, yeah.”

“You sure it’s not your drink talking?”

“Maybe it is, but this is something I’ve been feeling for a while.”

Ameile didn’t know what to say. This girl, her best friend, was professing an attraction to her. How could she respond to that? This wasn’t someone she met casually on the street. They worked together. Plus, she’d never been with a female that way before. The thought hardly crossed her mind. But something about Lena, right now. She really didn’t mind it at all. Or maybe it was alcohol. It was a potent drink after all. Siegfried certainly had no idea was he was talking about, thinking he could come between the two of them like that.

“You know what, Lena?” Ameile started off. “I’m flattered. I suppose this is something I should’ve suspected. With everything you’ve done for me over these months. Right now, this doesn’t change anything. But you have to play your cards right to convince me otherwise.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

“We’re best friends. Why would I be mad at you over anything?”

Ameile reached in to give Lena hug, feeling different now with the possibility of romantic feeling involved. She noticed Lena leaning into her more, as if without fear of repercussion. Ameile figured she deserved something else.

“You can kiss me if you want. Not on the lips.”

Lena did kiss Ameile on her right cheek. When they backed away from each other, Lena still looked at Ameile with puppydog eyes, making sure her hair wasn’t messed up too much.

“Do you, um, want more?”

“Yes,” Lena quickly responded reaching in for a kiss on the lips. Ameile was unprepared, but she let Lena finish her short kiss. Pulling away, the Brit was smiling, but oddly enough, Ameile found herself smiling too. She found it rather nice. And pleasant. 

“Come on, let’s dance,” Ameile grabbed Lena’s wrist and lead her to the room’s dance floor. 

The Depeche Mode song playing had just ended and a song by The Power Station got underway. The floor wasn’t as glamorous as the main dance area; there was no light-up floor and not as many lights, but it was still crowded with other humans and Omnics. Ameile and Lena couldn’t get that far inside, but they managed to find enough space for the two of them, facing each other with little room for turning.

Ameile would get in Lena’s face shouting the chorus line, “Get it on! Bang a gong! Get it on!” Aside from spinning around, she was well aware Lena was admiring her. She made the extra effort to swing her hips side to side and bending over to accentuate her butt. She’s teasing me, Lena thought to herself, trying to keep up. 

Ameile grabbed Lena’s right hand and rubbed it from her hip up to her torso. She also gave the Brit a lustful look. “If you love me so much, why aren’t you touching me?” she thought she heard the French woman say.

Lena’s moves were nowhere near as elegant as her partner, probably the result of being near someone aware of her feelings. They consisted of playing an air guitar and being very rigid with her body movements. Having Ameile drag her hands along her sides made her all the more nervous. This lasted only for the rest of the song.

The song changed to one that started out with a high-hat and drum beat, much more basic than before. When the bassline kicked in, Lena recognized the song, and broke out of her stiffness, feeling much for giddy.

“Oh my god! We have to dance to this!” Lena shouted dragging Ameile further inside, finding some space.

“What is it?”

“The Bay City Rollers! They’re a doofy Scottish band from 1970’s who wear plaid. They’re terrible, but I love them!”

Lena took the lead this time, grabbing and reaching Ameile’s right hand out and placing her own right hand on her waist. Ameile caught on and put her free hand on Lena’s shoulder. Soon they were bobbing side to side and spinning around as if a waltz was playing instead of bubblegum rock.

Ameile maintained contact with Lena’s brown eyes, staring back at her, smiling. Maybe it was the music, singing about how “I Only Wanna Be With You,” or the alcohol in their system, but for some reason, she felt like she could stare at her face for a long time. Like one of those paintings from the museum she saw earlier. Lena’s mouth was moving, but the music was too loud to hear properly.

“Are you saying something?” Ameile shouted in Lena’s ear.

“I never noticed how blue your eyes were,” Lena shouted back. “Were they always like that?”

“They were more hazel before. Eye colors can change, right?”

“It’s just nice seeing them as something other than yellow.”

“Merci.”

Lena leaned her head in against Ameile’s chest, her face turned away from digging into the breasts. Ameile initially thought about getting her head off, to stave off any unwanted attention, but she let it slide, secretly enjoying this as much as Lena’s stolen kiss from earlier. This odd feeling in her. It was like how Widowmaker felt alive after killing. Exhilaration. 

Was she falling for her best friend? 

“Want some more booze?” Lena offered when the song ended.

“Yes.”

The two left the club at around 2:30 am, plenty intoxicated. Lena reached her goal of 3 rocket fuels and Ameile wasn’t far behind. A line of black cabs was waiting outside ready to pick up partygoers that couldn’t stand on their two legs. The two got in one and told the driver their destination at the same time, to which Lena gave a very drunk laugh before the cab drove off.

“I thought you ballet dancers were supposed to be more dignified. With your pliets and all.”

“Okay, first of all, I don’t do ballet anymore. Secondly, you think I can’t learn other styles?”

“What you mean you don’t do ballet anymore?”

“When do I have the time for it?”

“Have you at least tried?”

“Of course. You doubt my flexibility?”

“No, not at all.”

“You know I’m not a young woman anymore too. My skills aren’t as they used to be.”

“Yet you can still do those crazy flips and jumps.”

“That’s completely different!”

“No it is the same!”

“Tell me how!”

Lena and Ameile’s faces got exceptionally close to each other in the exchange. When Lena realized this, she tried reaching in for another kiss, but Ameile blocked it with her hand. The force pushed Ameile down, both nearly falling off their seats laughing. 

“Fille Stupide,” (Silly girl) Ameile called her.

“Keep it down back there!” the cabbie yelled, banging against the divider.

“Ah, suck it up ya tosser,” Lena shouted back in her drunk stupor. “I’m in love and no one can say otherwise!”

“You’re drunk Lena.”

“So are you.”

“You’re cute when you’re drunk.”

“And you’re just hot. All the time.”

Lena fell asleep after a few miles, with Ameile having to carry her inside once they reached the apartment.

 

The next day, after determining they sobered up enough, Ameile and Lena decided to continue on with their mission, fully clothed in their Overwatch uniforms. They took another cab out to their destination, with a driver excited to have some famous people to drive around. Overwatch too, no less. 

“I just want to say how much an honor it is driving you around, Tracer, and, and, what’s your name?”

“Huntress,” Ameile replied back.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard of you.”

“My fanbase is small but growing.”

“So what’s it like working with Jack Morrison? Is he as much a stickler everyone says he is? Bet he an the cowboy have you eat corn and barbeque,”

Ameile closed the little glass door the cabbie talks to the passengers through, not interested in what crazy theories he had. She did have something else on her mind, something she wanted to know because of she learned last night.

“Lena, you mind if I ask you something? About last night?”

“No, what is it?”

“How long have you been in love with me?”

Lena didn’t like being put on the spot now. Not while they were en route to the target. One Ameile had far more interest in. “Can this wait?”

“I’d like to know.”

“It’s just, now that I think about it, it’s really, really stupid.”

“What? It wasn’t back when I was still Widowmaker, right?”

The Brit didn’t respond, but looked away in shame. Ameile knew right away what her response would have been.

“Dieu Lena!” Ameile laughed, shoving her against the side of the cab. “What’s wrong with you? You said you’d have no problem killing me!”

“Well back then, the mission was more important than, whatever we were feeling.”

“Is that why you didn’t kill me in Numbani?”

“Ana had her plan too,”

“You just keep topping yourself in ridiculousness!”

“Don’t need to get nasty about it!”

“It’s just, what did you hope would happen? That I’d give up being with Talon and run away with you? My conditioning may have been weakening, but what reason would I have to love you back?”

Lena’s face got red, embarrassing herself further. After Ameile calmed down from laughing, she realized she’d been too harsh. There was no reason given she’d been so sweet to her.

“I’m sorry. I’ll at least be receptive to you now, with these emotions and all.”

The cabbie forced the little glass door open, “Aight, here’s your stop. Stirlingfauld Place.”

“We don’t really carry money when we’re out like this,” Lena tried explaining as they disembarked.

The cabbie was more than understanding. “Don’t worry. This one’s on me. Just keep going your good work. You need a ride back?”

“That’d be appreciated.”

“I’ll be waiting here for ya.”

Among the various assorted apartment buildings, duplexes, and condos, the two walked down the street, and turned a corner to one of the brick buildings. One of the list of addresses Ameile picked up before. They entered through the door as someone else was leaving.

“So what’s your plan anyway?” Lena asked. “We really gonna take this guy in?”

“I suppose that’s the ideal scenario.”

“You suppose? You can’t kill this guy.”

“I’ll improvise.”

“That’s usually my thing.”

“I guess that’s rubbing off on me. So no killing is the only rule. Anything else is fair game.”

“I, I guess.”

They finally found the supposed apartment. Room 2612. Ameile turned on her infrared visor. There were definitely people inside. That was the problem. People. She could see five signatures, just making their way around the place. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to be taken out as well. 

“I hear other voices in there,” Lena whispered.

“Can’t mind that now,” Ameile knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” a deep masculine voice on the other side replied. Ameile made a nervous hand motion to Lena, urging her to speak instead. A French accent would be an immediate tip-off.

“Um, . . .” Lena briefly pondered. “Glasgow police. There was a crime down the street we need to ask you about.”

“Hold on one second.” There was the sound of locks being unlocked and little door chains being let off their hook. Ameile positioned herself in front of the door to move in immediately, while Lena just remained in her spot to the side, determined to wait this out. 

In Ameile’s head, her mindset changed. She resumed her planned revenge.

“Stay out of my way,” Ameile mouthed to her partner.

The door finally opened with a medium-sized, muscular dark skinned man on the other side. “Now what happened that, Ahhhh!!” he screamed as Ameile barged in after him. The chase didn’t last long since the man fell over one of the loose chairs surrounding a dinning room table in the middle of the wide-open space. And Ameile was right on her prey. 

“What is this?” Ameile heard a creaky voice from the far end of the room. Sure enough, her worst fears were realized. There was an old woman, a woman who looked like her age, and two preteens. And they all got a good look at Ameile holding the suspect down.

Determined not to let this change anything, Ameile continued on as planned. “Afah Talei? Former Talon soldier I assume?” she asked her victim.

“Yeah. What’s it to ya?” Afah retorted.

“You leave my son alone?” the old woman shouted out.

“Ma’am,” Ameile tried explaining, dragging Afah off the ground by his shirt collar. “This man is a person of interest to Overwatch, and we need to bring him in for,”

Ameile’s sentence was interrupted with a punch to the back of her head, where her visor didn’t cover, that sent her down to the hardwood floor. Looking up, trying her best to ignore the stinging, she saw Lena standing above her.

“Sorry loves, this is a huge misunderstanding. We’ll leave as soon as I talk to my partner here.”

“Lena!” Ameile shouted, charging up off the ground against the girl, grabbing her by the neck, and moving to throw her against a wall. Lena recalled out of her hand before she could get the chance. Turning around to check back on her target, Lena attempted to subdue her friend by jumping on her, trying to force her to the ground again. 

“You can’t do this! Not with these people here!” Lena tried convincing her, along with more punches that ended up getting blocked. Ameile simply swatted her away.

“You’re not taking this away from me!” Ameile demanded. The sniper saw her target had left the floor for one of the bedrooms, his family still cowering in fear, starting to yell things in a Polynesian language she couldn’t understand. Ameile moved towards the open bedroom door finding Afah in the middle of opening one of the windows.

“No! Please! I didn’t do anything wrong!” Afah cowered once Ameile caught him again. She hit is face with the butt of her rifle, close to knocking him out, and dragged him back out into the main living space. Lena was up from the floor, reassuring the rest of the people no harm would come to Afah.

“Afah Talei, do you recognize me?” Ameile asked the man, leaning him up against the wall next to the bedroom door.

“Yeah I know exactly who you are. A goddamned home-wrecking Overwatch agent.”

“No,” Ameile continued after slapping him in the face. “Do you recognize this face of mine?”

Afah took a good long look at her, not giving the satisfaction of fear anymore, but more anger. He eventually put it together. “Yeah, you’re Widowmaker. I did help train you. Thought we gave you the slip before.”

“I’m not Widowmaker anymore!”

“I suppose not. She wouldn’t barge in unannounced like this.”

“You know why I’m here then?”

“I can guess.”

“There are plenty of people like you responsible for turning me into that monster,” Ameile stated, then aiming her rifle against his head, to the continued horror of the other residents. “Your death will be a quick one.”

“Stop! Stop! I’ll tell you everything! Everything I know about Sombra!”

Sombra? Why’d he bother bringing that name up? Is it a ploy? Something to stave her off?

“This has nothing to do with Sombra!”

“Doesn’t it? She wanted me to join her new collective, and I said I wanted no part of any of this. Isn’t this what it’s all about? Tying up loose ends?”

“Do I look like I work for Sombra?”

“Clearly not. But my brother said some smooth-talking German guy and two ladies were looking for me.”

Ameile’s sneer went away. In its place was a mere look of shock.

“Was his name Siegfried Paulis?”

“Probably. I remember that name. We worked together a few times. Some of those were on you.”

Despite the rifle still aimed at her target, Ameile’s mind had left the premises. Is this really what Siegfried used her for? An accessory? Much like Widowmaker was? He did say he was killing other ex-Talon agents before they met. What did they really like? And what did Sombra have to do with this?

Her mind went to the other people Siegfried had her kill. Why did she really go along with this in the first place? She’ll never get back the time she lost as Widowmaker. Gerard would never come back. Why rob others of their time and loved ones? Or is it some other feeling inside her? Something showing itself in her nightmares? 

“I . . . I,” Ameile tried getting out. The rest of the statement was “can’t do it,” but it never left her lips. She lowered the gun down and ran for the door, not acknowledging the others.

“Excuse us,” Lena followed Ameile out in the hallway. She was sitting against the wall, her head back against the fading plaster, and the visor and rifle down by her feet. She was whimpering, with tears running down her cheeks. The thought of being so close to killing someone of little fault again was too much for her.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Lena consoled her, giving a hug and a kiss on the forehead. “You did the right thing.”

Ameile had to fight through her tears to speak. “What will we tell Winston and Jack? That I almost killed the person we were searching for? That we were duped?”

“We’ll tell them this was a dead end, that’s all. And we’ll give Siegfried a piece of our minds if we see him again.”

“Lena, I don’t want to go back to Gibraltar yet.”

“Okay, okay, understandable. So where then?”

“France.”

“Where in France? Home?”

“No. Gerard’s grave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to Thanksgiving coming up (along with bunnyribbit week), the next chapter may take longer than usual.
> 
> Soundtrack:   
> Destroy Everything You Touch - Ladytron  
> New Lands - Justice  
> Strangelove - Depeche Mode  
> Get it On (Bang A Gong) - The Power Station  
> I Only Wanna Be With You - Bay City Rollers  
> How It Is - Rush


	7. Vapor Trails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ameile recounts the worst day of her life. Then finds out the truth about Siegfried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A good portion of the beginning is an Ameile flashback told in first person. And yes, it's about what you think it is.
> 
> Also contains my half-assed attempt to retcon the infiltration short into my canon.

In the Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris, a section is set-aside for the best French Overwatch members. They contributed a great number during the first Omnic Crisis and the peace period afterward, with that number on the rise again with Overwatch’s return. It was something the French military took great pride in these days.

Here, Ameile and Lena stood in front of a headstone marked for one Gerard Lacroix, bearing the Overewatch logo. The inscription roughly translated into, “Here lays Gerard Lacroix. 2031-2067. Dedicated Overwatch agent. Grateful son. Loving husband.”

Ameile was shivering in the Northern French rain, lost in thought staring at the headstone, thinking about her lost time with Gerard. Where would he be right now? With the reinvigorated Overwatch? Would Talon have gotten to him eventually? How would he react to Overwatch’s disbandment and the one-time worsening state of the world? He wasn’t the kind of man to light such things go lightly. Thinking about these alternating depressing and reassuring hypotheticals was oddly calming to her, given recent events.

“How many times have you been here?” Lena asked. 

“Twice,” Ameile responded, not making eye contact. “The first was after I found out where this was. And the second was after my first mission for Overwatch, just to tell him how it went. You must’ve met Gerard at some point, right?”

“Did I?”

“I remember him talking about you as a potential recruit.”

“Oh yeah, I was just a green pilot for the RAF, one of the best they’d seen in years. That’s when some Overwatch people, I guess Gerard included, wanted me to join. Mainly for testing the Slipstream.”

Both Lena and Ameile went silent, both reminded of the tragedies defining their lives to that point.

“That was before you were kidnapped, right?”

“Just barely, I suppose.”

More silence. Just embracing the deathly atmosphere surrounding them. And letting the rain patter their bodies.

“Lena, I know you told me everything about the slipstream, but did I ever tell you how Talon abducted me?”

Lena was shocked at the suggestion. Her friend actively tried erasing anything to do with her Talon days. Why would Ameile want to share something so tragic?

“Um, no? You actually remember that?”

“I remember it so clearly. It was one of the first horrible memories that came back to me, along with killing Gerard and the Talon tortures.

It was the middle of the day, I remember. Gerard had gone on a mission in North Africa to investigate suspected Talon operations. And I was at our home, a townhouse in Paris, just relaxing, reading a book after doing some ballet stretches. Before he went on the mission, Gerard took me to see one of the bases. It might’ve been either in the Black Sea or Mediterranean. All I remember it was offshore.

It was a rather old building we lived in, not much new technology could be put inside without disturbing it too much. I can see it all in my head. The living room had a hardwood floor, velvet furniture, bookcases with hardbound and digital texts. Our bedroom was mainly white, with a bed smaller than usual for two people. Gerard said it was so we could be a close as possible in our sleep. Only the best for my princess, he would say.

Gerard tried his best to make the place safe, with security systems in place and all. But I suppose as the saying goes, a chain’s only as strong as it’s weakest link.

Looking out the window, I saw some figures dressed in street-clothes walking up to our porch. I put the book aside, got up and looked through the peephole in the front door. They had loose fitting clothes on mostly, best for keeping their weapons concealed. I suppose they were that confident this mission would be a success, since I could pick out each one of their faces in a police lineup if I had the chance. Standing out from the rest was one with gelled black hair, glasses, slightly tanned skin, and a black trenchcoat. There was a knock on the door.

‘Excuse me, Mrs. Lacroix? We have some news regarding your husband,’ I remember him saying in some kind of South American accent. Might have been Argentine.

I knew if it were anything regarding a military death, they would’ve been wearing military uniforms. Gerard was always worried an abduction like this could happen, so he did help train me in hand-to-hand combat and firearms for the occasion. And that was the right time.

So I ran up the stairs to our bedroom and closed the door. We had some pistols hiding for if something like this happened. But Gerard never thought I’d have to deal something like this on my own. Even with my fight training, he thought they would come to him first.

‘Mrs. Lacroix?’ the voice at the front door said, noticeably louder now. ‘We’re not leaving until you answer the door.’

There were two I carried in my hands with three more held in by the waistband of my pants. I thought if I did answer the door then, guns in their faces, they could leave me alone if by some chance they weren’t there to kidnap me.

I never got the chance to try that, because I heard a crash. The bastards crashed through the front door, stomping around the bottom floor, with the alarms going off. They shut those up pretty quickly.

‘Search the place,’ the man ordered. ‘We’re not leaving without her.’

Footsteps pattered all around the place as I waited behind the door. They would no doubt find me eventually. And I thought I was prepared enough. Thoughts of what Gerard taught came to me. Aim for the head and chest to kill. Joints to painfully wound.

With all the inner strength I could muster, I opened up the bedroom door. One of the Talon soldiers was by the door. And I shot him in the head. It alerted the other Talon men down the hall, and I quickly shot them as well. Some dead, some enough to have them lie on the floor in pain. 

Looking down the stairs, more Talon men were making their way up. I threw one of empty guns at them, hitting one in the head, and unloaded more bullets. When one got too close, I gave them a punch and kick to the stomach to knock them out, as I was trained to do. They weren’t wearing any body armor, so it was short work.

I don’t know what went through my head at that point, but it must’ve been an adrenaline surge. I felt like I could take them all on. Nothing could stop me. I could see what possible enjoyment soldiers get out of fighting like this.

Going down the stairs, I jumped over the railing straight into the living room, shooting at and fighting more of the troops. But, I was eventually overpowered. There were simply too many to fight them off in hand-to-hand combat. With enough blows to my legs, and a bloody face too, I finally lost. I can still see the blood drip out of my nose onto the floor.

They held me down on my knees on the living room floor. The Argentine man in the trenchcoat bended down to make eye contact with me.

‘So, you’re the wife of Gerard Lacroix. Ameile, right? We want to make sure we have the right woman.’

I could do no more than nod my head.

‘Excellent. You’re quite the amateur fighter. Gerard trained you well. I apologize if you don’t understand my English. My French isn’t that good.’

‘What do you want from me?’ I shouted out at him. ‘A hostage? Is that it?’

‘Ah, you do understand. Yes, you’re our hostage now. Gerard has been quite the thorn in our side. And for some reason, we just have too hard a time killing him. So, we have to resort to kidnapping. I don’t want this to happen as much as you do, but I have my orders.’

‘So, I’m some bargaining chip for you now?’

‘We’ve thought about that, but my bosses deemed that too easy. We have something else in mind for you. And believe me. It’ll be much worse than a bargaining chip.’

I didn’t think I could be more scared. If I wasn’t going to be some insurance policy, then what? Would they kill me? What could be worse than that? I truly had no idea what was in store.

‘Tell me, Ameile, what do you truly fear most in the world?’

I certainly knew what I was afraid of most then. But, down on the floor, I saw a spider walk alongside his foot. And I flinched back with enough force to make my captors move. He very clearly took notice.

‘Oh, what’s this? A spider? Is that it? Spiders?’

I didn’t acknowledge his statement, just continuing to look gravely at him. But it was true. I did have a fear of spiders. Ever since I was a young girl. It wasn’t what I was most afraid of at that moment, but he didn’t care.

‘We can work with that,’ the man replied, squishing the spider with his foot. ‘Take her away.’

They put a bag over my head and escorted me out the house, into whatever vehicle they came up in. And well, you know the gruesome parts. All the tortures, the physical abuse, the mind-warping, the sniper training, the physical combat. Everything to make me into their perfect weapon. They somehow even amplified my fear of spiders. Having me think they feel no emotion and feel alive only in the moment of killing. I suppose it was part of their cruel joke, having someone turn into a thing they fear to kill their husband.

And I guess you know the rest. Overwatch finding me abandoned in a French warehouse months afterwards and killing Gerard a few week later, leaving his body to rejoin Talon. 

That, Lena Oxton, I can say, is how I became Widowmaker.”

When she finished, Ameile shivered more, with tears coming down her eyes, but didn’t make any whimpering noises. She just continued to stare at the gravestone, thinking about how she let her husband down. And no amount of good, or revenge, she did would bring him back.

Lena had to take a while to process everything she just heard. Ameile bore the start of her horrible past out to her. Much like how she told the Frenchwoman her pain. It must’ve been horrible having to recall all those details. Much like thinking what would happen if she became disassociated from time again.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Lena asked.

“I’ve been thinking about what I’ve done lately. Widowmaker stood for taking innocent lives, causing chaos like the rest of Talon. I just can’t stand the possibility of knowing I’ve fallen back on that. The people I killed were in no way innocent, but they didn’t deserve to go the way they did. I’m supposed to be better than that now, as part of Overwatch. I want to do Gerard proud, and I don’t think he’d approve of my actions.”

“If you were never Widowmaker, you wouldn’t be where you are now. You wouldn’t want to improve yourself.”

“I suppose.”

Lena’s phone started to buzz in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw Winston’s name. 

“’Ello big guy, . . we’re in Paris right now, visiting Gerard’s grave. . . hmmmhmm. . . okay . . . oh . . . I see . . . yeah I’ll tell her, we’ll head back as soon as we can.”

“What did Winston want?”

“We need to get back to Gibraltar pronto. There’s been a breakthrough in all that Sombra intel. And . . . some of it does concern you.”

“Oh.” This was something Ameile feared would happen. Something to do with her past or new revelations regarding what she’s done. “Should we leave now?”

“Only when you want to.”

Ameile continued to stare at Gerard’s headstone for a few minutes more, lost in thought, with Lena enveloping one of her arms around Ameile’s. Once she was satisfied, the Frenchwoman gave a nod to her friend, indicating she was ready to leave. The two made their way down to Orly airport, where Lena left the jet. 

Like before, once the plane took off, Ameile didn’t bother staying in her seat for long, standing behind Lena in the cockpit, looking down at the land below from out the window, obscured by the dark clouds.

“So what do think they found?” Ameile asked nervously. 

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions.”

“But if it has to do with me, then maybe Sombra really is in on this. I never liked her anyway. She was a loose cannon who spent too much time with Gabe.”

“Ameile, if the worst does happen, I want you to know I’ll be here for you. Can’t have you breaking down again.”

“Merci Lena. But I think I need more than your support for this one.”

Most of the flight back was in silence, with Lena making the occasional radio call for navigation through the thunderstorm and Ameile continuing to stare out the windows. In an effort to give her friend some kind of comfort, Lena grabbed one of Ameile’s hands and put it on the least distracting place possible. The top of her head. At first, Ameile was confused. Then she took to feeling the stiff points in the Brit’s hair.

The jet landed back in Gibraltar in the early evening, with Lena parking the vehicle close to the base’s main entrance. Ameile ran out as soon as the stairs leading out were lowered, as Jack was walking out towards them.

“Welcome back,” Jack greeted the two. “Sorry that mission was a dead end.”

“Where’s Angela?” Ameile demanded. “I need to see her.”

“She’s in her office, but she’s busy, and you have,”

“I need to see her now!” Ameile just ran by towards the base, with Lena trying to catch up.

“You two, get back here! I’m not finished with you!” Jack shouted as he followed the two women.

If Angela helped me before, she can do it again, Ameile thought as she rushed through the base to Angela’s workspace. And Zenyatta too. He said he at least knew about human dreams. Anything to stop Widowmaker appearing in my head.

On the second floor on the main building, Ameile barged into Angela’s office, with Lena in tow. The doctor was in the middle of going over assessments of her medical students, having finished her main work for the day.

“Angela, I need something from you,” Ameile quickly got out.

“Ameile,” Angela said in surprise. “How odd, asking for an appointment for once.”

“I want to up the dosage of the medication.”

“What for? I can’t just give out prescription drugs willy-nilly. We need to do an assessment first”

“It’s these dreams I’ve been having. They’re getting worse.”

“Oh, that requires something different. The medication you’re on now only works for battlefield-induced stress.”

“Well what is it? I need it!”

“At least give me time to have it made first. Not to mention we don’t know if you really need it.”

Ameile slammed her fists down on Angela’s desk, disturbing the paperwork littered about on it.

“You have no idea what I’ve just been through! I had a near breakdown from almost killing a man. And your medication didn’t help me then. So whatever you have, give it to me!”

“Ameile, Lena,” Jack said in the doorway, having finally caught up to them. “Conference room. Now! We’re going to go over the new Sombra intel and you have to be present.”

“Jack,” Ameile pleaded. “Just give me a few more minutes with Angela,”

“That’s an order! Something you need to start following. Now move!” 

With a nod from Angela urging them to leave, the two women followed Jack, Ameile feeling particularly dejected, as she had to wait longer for help.

“I’ll see what I can do in the meantime,” Angela shouted out as they walked away.

Jack led them down to one of the conference rooms in the underground level, with plenty of other members already seated, waiting and making small talk. The rest of the group gathered consisted of Winston, Ana, Reinhardt, Hanzo, Genji, Satya, Fareeha and Aleksandra. With Sombra hacking into many other associated companies, Ameile wasn’t the only one present with personal stakes.

Ameile ended up sitting between Lena and Hanzo, snagging an open seat next to him.

“Ameile,” Hanzo acknowledged her, wanting to strike up a conversation.

“Archer,” Ameile responded, not in the mood to talk.

“I heard your mission didn’t go as planned.”

“No, it didn’t.”

“You don’t want to be here, I take it?”

“I do. I just don’t like what’s in store.”

“If it’s any consideration, I understand Sombra’s got something planned for each of us. I take it that’s why we’re all here.”

“Alright everyone,” Winston said, making his way to the front of the room. “Through long hard work from our computer division going through the captured databases, we finally have something resembling Sombra’s plans and possible location. Because we managed to salvage some video footage of her going over plans with her associates, which I’ll be showing shortly. Keep in mind, some parts of the video were erased, since she anticipated our Vietnam attack. Also, try to keep calm if she brings up anything close to any of you.”

With the last statement, Winston started playing the footage, revealing Sombra setting up the transmission. Ameile instantly recognized her former associate’s face. Her purple-highlighted hair covering only the right side of her head with neon purple cybernetic enhancements lining the left side. Sombra looked like she was hiding out in a basement, something that suited her. But since she was now Overwatch’s #1 most wanted, she likely had to keep moving. And this was just the only time and place she could manage to get a message out. Her purple-hued eyes had bags forming under them. Being on the run and heading a terrorist group might’ve been taking its toll on the Mexican woman.

As she talked, the foreign language responses gave way to text going by on the screen, the responses from who she was talking to.

“What’s the status on those Shimada plans?” Sombra started off.

One of her Japanese subordinates listed the various other yakuza families he was getting in contact with. Along with what offers should be made for their allegiance. Money, positions of power, hedonistic indulgences and the like. 

“Don’t offer them anything yet. I just need to find some incriminating dirt on them. Then they’ll fall in line.” 

“What’s she up to?” Hanzo jumped out of his chair. “The Koizumis? The Nakanos? What other families is she working with?”

“If you’d calm down, we can continue!” Jack retaliated. “Find that out on your own damn time.”

“Brother, sit back down,” Genji urged him. “We can worry about that when we’re done here.”

“What about my old friends, Vishkar and Volskaya?” Sombra continued. 

Two people were running conversations by her this time, one in Russian and one in Hindi. They ran similar information by her; only their leads for more secrets against the corporations had dried up, with Overwatch cracking down on operations in their respective parts of the world.

“Well that Volskaya blackmail is no good, since Russia won’t get mad over the Omnics anymore. And Vishkar. Oh Vishkar. They’ve all been nearly squeaked clean in their allegiance with Overwatch. Their security’s plenty beefed up. Should only take a bit longer to crack than usual.”

Aleksandra stood up from her chair in the same manner Hanzo did. “Winston, just tell us where this woman is so we can crush her!”

“I wouldn’t mind joining her,” Fareeha chimed in. “Helix can provide more than enough firepower now to take out any bases she’s hiding in.”

Winston paused the video before going any further. “Feel free to tell me your opinions on what to do when we’re done here. This meeting is for everyone, and I wish to go over everything we have so far. Now I won’t have any more interruptions!”

Aleksandra sat back down, furious. This woman was partly responsible for the former Omnic attacks in her country and did try to blackmail Volskaya industries. The Russian may not spend much time in her home country anymore, but would still defend it with every bone in her body.

“Before I continue,” Winston went on. “I just want to give fair word of warning to Ameile.”

Everyone in the room turned to the Frenchwoman. Ameile felt a sense of nervousness and dread. This could only end badly for her.

“The next part is why we asked you here. And it does deal with your recent predicaments. If you’re uncomfortable at all during this, feel free to tell us.”

“I need to see this,” Ameile said behind a veil of confidence dreading the truth. “I just, I need to know.”

“As you wish,” Winston said resuming the video.

“Paulis, what’s the status on Widowmaker?” Sombra barked out. It already wasn’t a good sign.

Siegfried’s voice responded in German, which Ameile recognized as some of the phrases he said when talking over the phone. The rough translation coming up along the screen addressed that Lukas Hase was dead and was planning on finding Viollette Barteaux next.

“How long will it take before I see mi vieja amiga again?” (My old friend)

Siegfried’s response believed that with enough killings like this, Widowmaker’s nature would reemerge and, as such, be more susceptible to reprogramming. As long as they found someone loyal who knew how to carry the process out and that Overwatch didn’t find out.

“Excelente. You know what to do going forward, I take it,” was the last thing Sombra said before the video stopped, the end of the video feed they could salvage.

Ameile’s worst fears were confirmed. Siegfried, and now by extension Sombra, were using her for their dirty work. And they referred to her as Widowmaker. But why? The need to think was cut short, as Winston pulled up old photos of Siegfried. One was a headshot as a member of Talon, at least 15 years younger with no face stubble, and more were out in the field. Not in the traditional Talon clothing but his trenchcoat, presumably in the middle of undercover operations.

“Siegfried Paulis was more than just a Talon foot soldier,” Winston explained. “He performed deep cover assassinations, sort of like what Widowmaker did. Only he actively tried to make the effort not to be seen. Clearly, he did not have the same taste for theatrics you did, but from what we gathered, he took pride in his work.”

Something else came across Ameile’s mind. If Siegfried was the killer he now appeared to be, how come she never heard of him in her time with Talon?

“Ameile, what did he tell you in regards to leaving Talon?”

“He saw the tortures they did to me and escaped.”

“Well, that’s not the whole truth. Some investigating tells us Siegfried left a few years after you became Widowmaker. He had a falling out with some part of Talon leadership because he didn’t like how they could just create their own killers instead of hiring them. So he fled, did some freelance work under different names, and started using his own again after Talon fell.”

“If he left because of me, why would he help bring Widowmaker back?”

“We don’t know at this time. Now up to the present. What we were told about him killing other ex-Talon agents, that part was true. We did some looking into exactly who he killed working for Sombra.”

Winston pulled up some headshots on the screen, with names and positions coming up under them, quite the diverse set of people. These included those Ameile killed with Siegfried.

“Those two people you killed, Lukas and Viollette, rejected Sombra’s invitations to join her new collective. And some other people he took out himself. Li Wong, Miroslav Maselnik, Klahan Metharom, Angie Dorsey, Ufuoma Afolaya, these are just some, but they were all Talon soldiers who ended up free and wanted nothing more to do with terrorist activity. Sombra deemed them too dangerous to have roaming free, with whatever knowledge they have. There were even some small counter-terrorist groups people like these were involved in. But people like Siegfried destroyed them. How or why he’s working with Sombra now, we have no clue.”

“So. . . does that mean?” Ameile just had to get out.

“Ameile, there’s no easy way to say this. Due to your relationship with this man, you inadvertently helped Sombra’s cause.”

Things started to flash in Ameile’s head. Widowmaker in her dreams saying she still has the desire to kill. And Siegfried deliberately avoiding showing too much affection towards her. It was all part of his plan. He and Sombra knew of something inside her head Overwatch didn’t, in trying to bring Widowmaker back to the light. And the thought of that happening again, on top of her previous grief, became too much for her. 

“Excuse me,” Ameile got up and left the room, having a hand cover her mouth as she left.

“Ameile, wait,” Lena followed her up the floors and down the halls. Ameile ran fast and Lena had to blink ahead to try and keep up. She got the same sense of worry from back in Glasgow. Where Ameile went off plan and ended up broken in the hallway. Now that everything was clearer, nothing would stop Lena Oxton from preventing Widowmaker’s reemergence. And that meant keeping her friend calm now.

Lena found Ameile in her personal quarters, the door left open for her to get inside. She was lying down on her bed, her face buried into the pillows, mumbling “Je suis tellement stupide,” (I’m so stupid) amid her crying.

“Hey Ameile,” Lena tried consoling her. “You want to talk?”

Ameile just started rambling, her voice muffled by her pillow. “Lena, I’m such an idiot! How could I let Siegfried do this to me? I knew he was a killer, yet I went along with what he wanted, thinking I’d get something out of it. Je suis un idiot et je ne veux jamais tirer un pistolet a nouveau!” (I’m an idiot and I never want to fire a gun again!)

“You’re not an idiot. You just made a mistake, that’s all.”

“And how many are or would’ve been dead because of me? I should’ve known better. That people would want me as Widowmaker again. I poured my heart out to him, the first person I tried to love coming back. And he used me. You know how much I hate being used.” 

Lena pulled Ameile up out from her pillow, with some resistance, so could speak to her directly. Her face was still red and covered with tears.

“Listen, you’re possibly the strongest woman I know. You wouldn’t be here otherwise if you didn’t believe in the good you could do. We’ll get Siegfried, I promise you that. Besides, you’re such an important part of the team now. I wouldn’t know what I’d do on the field without you.”

Lena littered Ameile’s head with kisses, ending with one on the lips. The touch of Lena’s lips making their way around her head made Ameile feel safe, reassured. 

“You’ve been through much worse before. This is nothing. You’ll make it through. Besides, you have friends here. I’m here.”

Ameile stared into Lena’s brown eyes. It was this kind of comfort that made her glad the Brit was her friend. And that Siegfried would get whatever was coming to him eventually. Her heart was initially racing from her sadness, though now, beside Lena, it was still beating fast due to something else.

Maybe it was worth repaying the affection Lena showed?

Unconsciously, Ameile closed her eyes and reached in to kiss Lena on the lips. The Brit was surprised as the forcefulness, but didn’t complain. She just tried returning the same vigor Ameile put into this. Her kiss felt like it was coming from someone who was desperate for help, who needed to feel genuinely loved again, and this was her only chance. She figured Ameile would’ve stopped after a few seconds, but she didn’t, and Lena didn’t want her to stop. It was something she wanted for months now, but started getting flustered now that it was happening.

Once Ameile finally broke the kiss after a minute, keeping her head close to Lena’s, breathing softly, she whispered. 

“Oh Cherie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmhmmmm
> 
> With all these shipping weeks coming up I want to do stuff for, I'll try my best to keep a consistent schedule.
> 
> Soundtrack:  
> The Visitors - ABBA  
> Vapor Trails - Rush  
> Perfect Illusion - Lady Gaga


	8. Secret Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following up from the last chapter, Ameile and Lena share more than just a moment. Meanwhile, Winston shares some promising news.

“What did you say?” Lena gasped, backing herself away from what Ameile just whispered to her. For a brief moment, it made her frightened.

“I said Oh Che-, oh, oh merde,” Ameile caught herself, realizing the implications that word must’ve had on her friend. “I’m so sorry.”

“No no, don’t be. It’s just the last time you called me that. Cherie.”

“Was as Widowmaker, I know. I didn’t mean to scare you, it just slipped out.”

“Is that your weird idea of dirty talk?”

“I’m sorry. Guess I ruined the mood. You want to stop?”

Lena looked over Ameile, the woman offering herself to her, knowing how sincere she was being. There was no way this opportunity would pass her by. No matter what things Ameile said.

“God no,” and Lena dived on top the unprepared woman, pinning her down over the sheets of her bed. They resumed kissing each other, ditching the tenderness of before in favor of unbridled passion, each trying to outdo the other in making them breathless.

“I reserve the right to stop this at any time. Comprendre?” Ameile broke away to clarify.

“Looks like I have my challenge then,” Lena proclaimed, resuming her contact with Ameile’s lips, her hand grasping one of the Frenchwoman’s breasts, trying to feel her way through the blocking fabrics. In a break between kissing, mainly to gasp for air, the sniper obliged the wishes of Lena’s hands. She pulled her top off and unhooked her black bra, discarding both to the floor below. 

Instead of resuming kissing her lover on the lips, Lena let her head rest on the full breasts given to her. She slightly rose and fell with each time Ameile breathed. Hearing Ameile’s heartbeat start to get faster, Lena realized how warm she felt, possibly the result of any number of things which happened to her today. When the Brit did resume kissing, it was along Ameile’s nipples and the cleavage between them, with the sniper running her hands through the brown hair. Particular attention was made to her scar from the surgery that brought her back to life.

“I’m gonna take the accelerator off,” Lena announced, leaning upright to loosen the straps and lift the device over her head.

“Are you sure?” Lena had told Ameile a few times it was possible in the right circumstances, but she had never seen the feat accomplished.

“Oh don’t worry. With the upgrades on this thing, I just have to be in the same room as it and I’ll be fine, though,” Lena placed the accelerator on one of the shelves lining Ameile’s bed underneath the window, “it doesn’t hurt to have it too close.”

With the accelerator off, Lena lifted her shirt over her head and unhooked her thin, peach colored bra. Her exposed breasts were noticeably smaller than Ameile’s, but they were already erect in her anticipation. 

Ameile took a moment to admire Lena’s freckle-dotted skin. Her shoulders had slightly pink rectangular discoloration running down along her outer chest. Those same patches were on her upper abdomen. And what looked like several circle outlines inside themselves nestled between her small, perky breasts. From where her accelerator would normally be placed, she guessed. And she had the latest version of that device. How many others did she wear before?

“Love, you’re staring,” Lena said wondering why her lover had gone silent.

“Those marks all over your chest.”

“Years of wearing that thing will do that to you,” Lena brushed aside. “Now let’s get these off.”

Lena shifted herself backwards on the bed to pull Ameile’s pants and black panties off in one fell-swoop. She lay down on her chest, sliding herself between the woman’s legs. She snuck a feel of buttcheek while roving her hands.

“You got a real good butt, you know that?” Lena remarked.

“Every man I’ve been with told me that.” 

“Now if by chance you don’t like seeing my face down here, just imagine I’m someone else. Tell me if you’re uncomfortable at all, okay?”

“D’accord.” (Okay)

Lena took a deep breath, then reached her mouth out to suck at Ameile’s slit. The sensation wasn’t anything remarkably different from what the Frenchwoman experienced, given the amount of times she received cunnilingus. But just seeing her friend down there, pleasuring her, that’s what made the experience different. And all the more special.

Somehow, the girl knew where to get all of Ameile’s buttons down there. And each one left her reaching for a gasp of air with a slight moan. Her tongue searching her folds, her clit, going in just a bit deeper, Ameile was getting flustered rather quickly. Lena certainly had experience doing this, making intense feelings of pleasure build up on other woman’s insides. She didn’t want to think of anyone else doing this. Somehow, she enjoyed seeing the brown hair and freckled face go from side to side like that. But she would finally come, she didn’t want it like this.

“Stop, stop it Lena,” Ameile ordered, about halfway there.

“What is it, love?”

“I want your face up here.”

Slowly, Lena crawled up, the fingertips of her left hand walking along Ameile’s torso and chest while her right hand remained between her legs. Lena brought her lips down to her lover’s, thrusting two fingers in and out of Ameile’s throbbing crotch. The sniper’s tongue reached out to touch the Brit’s, and they started getting in the habit of their tongues making a pass at each other when their mouths met. 

Ameile’s hips started convulsing in sync with each thrust of Lena’s fingers, with harsh breaths going into the speedster’s mouth. Lena did break her lips away from Ameile’s to let her breathe properly a few times, as well as to hear her unobstructed moaning. She dotted more kisses on the nipples, neck, shoulder and the chest scar. 

“Oooooh, Ooohhhh,” Ameile moaned once the other woman’s mouth got back to hers. “Cherie.”

“You said it again,” Lena pointed out, not letting up.

“I can’t hellllp myself.”

Aside from the two fingers pulsing in and out, Lena started to massage the clit with her thumb. She also ran her free hand behind Ameile’s neck, trying to give her some support as she raised herself on her elbows. The tension was building up more and more, and the Frenchwoman tried holding in as long as she could, knowing it would break with a few more thrusts.

“Mon dieu, c’est incroyable,” (this feels amazing) Ameile had to hold herself back from screaming. She was close at this point.

“You’re so sexy when you do that, rambling random French like that.”

“I . . . I . . .Ah!” Ameile finally released as her hips spasmed upward and her head rocked backward, then forward almost hitting Lena in the head. The Brit managed to catch it in time as Ameile planted another kiss, sending her energy Lena’s way. 

“Well, what’d you think?” Lena asked, proud of her work.

Ameile was at a loss for words, not yet all the way down from her orgasm. She’d never thought in her life a woman could pleasure her like that. And from her best friend too. Then again, Lena was always chock-full of surprises. 

“That was, was,”

“Was what?”

“Phenomenal. How’d you know what to do?”

“Well, when you have 5 years of not saving the world to do, you have a lot of free time. Get eager to try different things.”

Ameile tiptoed her fingers down Lena’s stomach, making their way to her pants and reaching behind the waistband to her panties. Her body convulsed with each time a finger set down on her midsection. When the fingers finally reached her crotch, an index finger ran along the fabric, noticing it was now damp. 

“You mind if I try?” Ameile proposed.

Before her mind was able to came up with a verbal response, Lena gave a wide smile, laid down on her back, and slipped off the last articles of clothing she had on, tossing them onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. She assumed the spot Ameile lay before, bent her legs back, and spread them, revealing what lay between.

“Knock yourself out,” Lena dared.

Ameile moved to get at a comfortable spot, lying down between Lena’s surprisingly long legs, wrapping her hands around the hips. She just stared at the slit in front of her, unsure of what to do. What if she doesn’t like it, Ameile thought to herself. What if I don’t like it?

“Just lick it,” Lena reassured her. “It won’t bite. Or will it!”

“Tais-toi! (Shut up!) I’m concentrating,” Ameile bit back, finally managing to reassure herself. She closed her eyes and stuck her tongue out towards Lena’s sex. The tip of her tongue stopped when it reached one of the folds. Slowly, she raised it up and down, not penetrating yet, just making circles along the outside skin. Lena didn’t look like she was getting aroused, she thought. Maybe I’m doing something wrong?

“You know you can go faster if you want,” Lena encouraged.

“I’ve never done this before, just give me time.”

“And put your whole mouth on it too.”

“I’ve been pleasured by enough men to know what I’m doing.”

Just think of what Lena did to you before, Ameile tried motivating herself. It can’t harm you. It wants you. She wants you.

She moved her mouth closer into Lena’s folds, starting to aggressively take action. Her tongue probed every possible part it could. The inner walls, the clit, occasionally going back outside to lick the skin. Just like giving a blowjob, Ameile convinced herself. Let your mouth do the work and the rest will follow.

“Oh, that’s it,” Lena let out during one of Ameile’s passes over her clit. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

“Mmmhmm,” Ameile murmured, not wanting to take her mouth away from Lena’s wetness. Her hands ran up and down the abdomen, trying to keep the hips from convulsing too far above the bed. 

“Ame-, ame-, ame-, ooooohhh,” Lena moaned, occasionally reaching to grip her friend’s black hair. Ameile stared up at Lena’s face, wanting to make eye contact. Her blue eyes wanted to see her face as she went over the edge, the beautiful expressions she would make.

“I’m almooooost,” Lena couldn’t finish her statement. Her orgasm came in waves, each one with a hip spasm Ameile tried holding down, continuing to move her tongue to draw this out as long as she could. Lena’s yelps came in short bursts, subsiding down into moans as her sensations faded. When she finally came back down, Lena’s face was blushing, overwhelmed and impressed. Was this really Ameile’s first time with another girl?

Removing her mouth from Lena’s now soaking cunt, Ameile crawled over her lover, her long black hair now disorderly and her face flush red. Lena ran her hands against the Frenchwoman’s sides, hoping for something else. Instead, Ameile turned over and collapsed on the sheets, panting with her mouth gaping open in disbelief. Some of Lena’s juices were dripping from her lips down the side of her cheeks.

“Well, that just happened,” Lena broke the silence, turning on her side. 

“Oh la la,” was all Ameile could say. Did she really eat her best friend out?

“I know, right? The first time is really exhilarating.”

“I, I can’t believe, I’m sorry if you didn’t like it.” 

“What are you talking about? That was great.”

“It’s . . . . I . . . wow.”

“And Lena Oxton leaves another girl speechless!” She congratulated herself with a fist pump.

Ameile stared at the giddy expression the naked girl next to her had. She felt the same full sensation in her chest from when they danced in Glasgow. That she could stare at it all night. She didn’t want it to subside. And no dobut Lena felt the same way.

“You want to spend the night?” Ameile asked.

“I’d assume that was a given.”

Ameile crawled out of bed and walked over to her door to turn off the lights, navigating through the pile of discarded clothes, with Lena staring at her rocking hips every time she stepped. With the lights turned off, Ameile made her way back to the bed and climbed in under the sheets. Lena got under as well and nuzzled up beside her new lover, encircling the shoulders with her arms. Ameile wrapped her right arm around her lover, pulling her in as close as she could without their skin fusing together. With the Brit’s head firmly against her breast, Ameile gave her a kiss on the forehead, followed by one on the lips.

This is just what I needed, she thought, falling asleep with a smile.

 

Ameile found herself in London. From the looks of buildings and signs around her, King’s Row to be exact, at the statue erected in the memory of Tekartha Mondatta. And a large crowd of humans and omnics gathered around the hotel in front. Most of them were holding signs or making chants calling for peace with the Omnics.

Oh no, Ameile said to herself. Why am I here now?

“Ameile,” someone shouted, followed by Lena rushing out from the crowd to greet her. “We’re gonna miss him!”

“Who?”

“Zenyatta! She’s gonna make a speech!” She grabbed Ameile’s hand and bolted through the mass, going through any empty spaces to make it to the front. Ameile wasn’t sure how she got here or what this was for. All she did know was there was a sense of unease.

Emerging from the building, surrounded by security guards, Zenyatta made his way dressed in regal white Shambali robes. He was supposed to be escorted to make a more important speech elsewhere in London, but the crowd demanded he say something.

“Greetings citizens of London. It’s my pleasure to speak before you all. We have made much progress in having omnics and humans live in harmony, but more needs to be done.”

The crowd, especially Lena, was enthralled by what he had to say. Going on about where progress has been made the most and where injustices still exist. Ameile was the only one uncomfortable throughout, making a stark realization. This is playing out just like how Mondatta died, she thought, drowning out the rest of Zenyatta’s words, realizing the possible danger everyone’s in. 

How perceptive of you, another voice rang out in her head. Widowmaker’s voice. Nothing good can come from this.

“Lena, did you hear that?” she tugged on her friend’s shoulder.

“Hear what? Was it something Zenyatta said?”

She can’t hear me. Only you. Why ruin the fun?

“Widowmaker is here. I just know it.”

“You sure?”

“I, I don’t know. I just heard her voice in my head.”

I am here, but can you find me?

Ameile looked up at the surrounding rooftops, trying to find her evil self. Lena just looked on in uncertainty. She saw some armed guards, only there for the monk’s security. But whether it be above her, or blocks away, there was no sign of Widowmaker.

Aw, you didn’t try hard enough. I’ll make myself and my friend known soon.

“How?” Ameile shouted into the air.

You know how.

“You alright love?” Lena asked out of concern.

Zenyatta was making his way to the motorcade, shaking the hands of whoever got close to him, but not everyone as security had to keep him moving. Thinking back on her previous King’s Row excursion, one of the many memories she tried blocking, Ameile figured out how Widowmaker would make her appearance. Exactly the same fashion as before. She could hear Widowmaker slowing her breathing down, at last holding her breath.

Trois, Deux, Un 

“Everybody get down!” Ameile shouted.

A gunshot rang out. Everyone in the crowd ducked down for cover, wary of what was next. But there weren’t anymore to be heard, for the intended target had been taken care of. Rising out of the panic, Ameile and Lena saw what damage had been done.

Zenyatta lay dead on the cobblestone road. A bullet through the head

Looking back up to the rooftops, Ameile found two figures silhouetted against the moonlight in one of the spots she looked at before. One she recognized as Widowmaker, holding her rifle against her hip, impressed with her kill. And next to her was

Siegfried?

The German was not holding any noticeable weapons, but his trenchcoat did blow in the breeze. And moreso once the two killers started making their getaway across the rooftops.

“Come on Ameile, let’s go!” Lena urged her, suddenly sporting her Overwatch attire of goggles, the bomber jacket, and yellow leggings. “Time for Tracer and the Huntress to get to work!”

Ameile then saw what she was wearing. Her Overwatch uniform, complete with her rifle and the visor resting on her head.

“What’re you waiting for?”

The Frenchwoman thought it best not to question their clothing at the moment. “As the guy on your show says, ‘Allons-y!’” 

Ameile grabbed Lena by the waist and shot her grappling hook up to the nearest rooftop. The two enemies were blocks away at this point, but stopped, waiting for their pursuers. Lena and Ameile breifly argued over who should fight who as they jumped across the roofs and chasms. 

“You go after Siegfried, I’ll take on Widowmaker,” Lena ordered.

“Quoi? Non, I’ll fight Widowmaker!”

“I can handle her fine. And you probably want to take Siegfried down more than I do.”

Lena blinked off to give Widowmaker chase, who decided to lead the Brit out a few blocks more to isolate themselves. Ameile was left stranded on a flat rooftop, with steam gushing out some open metal pipes and generators humming. She turned to find Siegfried, standing by his lonesome, waiting. He appeared to be unarmed, though it likely wasn’t the case.

“Well,” Siegfried challenged his former lover. “It’s just us here, liebling.”

“Vous trou du cul!” (You asshole!) Ameile shouted, charging at the man who wronged her. He attempted to pull out a gun from his trenchcoat, but Ameile charged into him before he gained full control, dragging him down the slanted tile roof. But she had misjudged the amount of necessary force, since the two fell off the roof and plummeted down to the alley below, falling four stories onto the hard cobblestone.

Both Ameile and Siegfried got up relatively unscathed, but dazed. She briefly wondered how either were still alive, then remembered this was a dream. She pulled herself up first, giving her the advantage in fighting the recovering man. Raining down a fury of punches and hitting him with the butt of her rifle, Ameile wanted to keep him down, not giving a fair chance of standing up. But Siegfried knocked her down by sweeping his feet, catching her by the ankles. With his assailant down on the floor, Siegfried finally managed to pull a sub-automatic gun from his trenchcoat, taking aim. But he yelled out feeling a blinding pain in his right foot. Looking down, he saw Ameile’s grappling hook pierce through his shoe. He crumpled back down the ground, still yelling, and kneeling on his good left leg.

“Don’t you realize what you’ve done to me?” Ameile shouted as she got up. She yanked her hook’s cord back, sending Siegfried into another fit of pain as more blood seeped out of the wound. Another hit from the rifle’s butt knocked him fully back down.

“Why Siegfried? What does Sombra want Widowmaker back for?”

With a bloody nose, Siegfried slowly laughed. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“Oh Ameile!” Widowmaker’s voice called out from above. “I have another prize for our web.”

A chill went up her spine. Looking behind her, back up at the rooftops, Ameile saw a horrid sight, what she feared would happen. Lena was tied up, hanging against one of the brick chimneys. And Widowmaker appeared to be laughing behind her.

“So, what are you gonna do? Liebling?” Siegfried taunted her. Ameile hit his face with the rifle again. It came down again and again on the wounded man until her anger was satisfactorily released. There was no time to see if he was fully dead; Ameile shot her grappling hook back up to the rooftops, climbing to where Widowmaker and her hostage were. 

“Saving the girl instead of fulfilling your revenge,” Widowmaker mocked. “How predictable.”

“Get back from my Cherie. you bitch!” Ameile exclaimed, raising her rifle up.

“Your Cherie? She’s my Cherie because she, . . .wait,” Widowmaker stopped to think, then gave off an evil laugh in her realization. “Oh, c’est precieux.” (this is precious)

“Ne la touchez pas!” (Don’t touch her!)

“Ameile, what’s happening?” Lena cried out in confusion

“Tracer, don’t you see? My white-skinned self is falling for you. This is all the sweeter now.”

“Let her go or I swear,”

“You have no power over me. I have the power over you. I’d say I do something to Tracer with you didn’t learn to embrace me again. Oh, you came so close. And now,” Widowmaker hoisted her hostage up by an accelerator strap, presenting her as an offering for King’s Row. 

“Lena!” Ameile shouted, starting to run for the two. But as Widowmaker saw her other self charging, she let go.

“You should’ve given in when you had the chance. This is how it should’ve been,” Widowmaker boasted, taking aim with her rifle, pulled the trigger, and gave off a loud crack, echoing throughout King’s Row.

Ameile again sprung forward out of the bed, shook from her nightmare. The sun had broken the horizon with the sky changing from early morning red to blue. Looking next to her, she saw Lena, still sleeping, through now she had the accelerator back against her chest, without tightening the straps. 

“Lena, you’re alive!” she exclaimed in joy, hugging the Brit tightly and leaving a trail kisses in her depressed hair. This got Lena to wake in unceremonious fashion.

“Of course I am,” she mumbled as she regained consciousness, not minding the kisses. “Right beside you the whole time.”

“I, I had another Widowmaker nightmare. Except you and Siegfried were there. On King’s Row. It played out exactly like when I killed Mondatta. Except it was Zenyatta. Then we tried going after them, but Widowmaker caught you and was going to shoot you.”

“It’s okay, everything will be fine, come here,” Lena urged Ameile to come in an embrace, with the Frenchwoman grabbing tight. Even through it was only a dream, she couldn’t stand the thought of Lena leaving her like that. Or having to hurt her friend in any way.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into all this,” Ameile felt the need to apologize once she let go.

“What for?”

“Having you be involved in my secret missions, dealing with Siegfried, seeing me break down, and last night. Maybe last night was a mistake too, like everything else I’ve done lately.”

“If it’s about the sex, you’re not the only person here who’s made weird choices.”

“Oh really?”

“You know that joke you have that’ll never catch on?”

“Yeah, about you and Genji. Trust me, that’ll” Ameile stopped when she looked back at Lena. She gave back a look of sincerity. 

“Oh allez! Really?”

“Swear on my life.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Probably the same reasons Angela freaked out about it. Not everyone accepts a human-cyborg relationship. It was back when I was still getting used to the accelerator. And Genji figured he could help me given his reliance on technology. And one thing just led to another.”

“Does he have a metal cock or something like that?”

“His natural one is still there. It felt fine but, yeesh, it did not look good.”

“So . . . is it awkward at all between you two on missions?”

“No we get along fine. Sure, we occasionally bring it up, but it doesn’t get in the way of what we have now. And if you have any regrets, I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

“Guess it could be worse. But now I can’t joke about that anymore.”

“What? About me and Genji?”

“It’s not as funny knowing you two actually did it.”

“But it’s you I love now.”

Ameile’s thoughts turned back to when Lena first admitted she loved her. And how it predated the period of her newfound normalcy. She’d never got a definitive answer as to why back then.

“You said you were in love with Widowmaker too. Why?”

Lena just gave a deep breath, knowing the question was gonna come back eventually. “You really wanna know?”

“The reasons I told you in Glasgow still stand. Widowmaker was an emotionless being. Even at the time my conditioning was breaking, how could you love someone who couldn’t love you back?”

“I don’t know if you remember when we first fought each other, back when Overwatch was pretty much on the down and outs the first time around.”

“I think so. In Austria it might’ve been in.”

“You appear in the background of the Talon force my team was fighting against I and didn’t make much of it. Only hearing about how you’re the sniper who killed Ana. When I came back to base to report on what happened, Winston told me to look up more about you, to prepare myself for any future meetings. So I looked up your files and found out your deal. How everyone in Overwatch loved you when Gerard went to various bases. And how you were brainwashed into being an assassin. It was a just a constant ‘what if?’ in my head, even when Overwatch was outlawed. What if she wasn’t like that anymore? And how could that be broken? That, not to mention how sexy you are, made me find you attractive in a weird way. I may have been a bit too good in hiding my feelings in the times we met since.”

“I’ll say.”

“But I tried thinking back then what I still think of you now. You can do good with the right mindset. And look at what you’ve done since joining. People look up to you the same way they do to me. You’re making a difference in this world.”

“So it was more the romantic idea of it all? Saving me with the power of love and goodness?”

“I guess so.”

“Well, it’s out of your system now. How did you enjoy your fantasy?”

“It was worth the wait,” Lena moved in for a kiss, running a hand along the other woman’s back.

“My turn for questions,” she stated when finished. “Why would you want to have sex with me?”

“Huh,” Ameile replied, caught off-guard with the question. “That’s not really something I’ve thought of.”

“Cause you constantly dote on Gerard even though he’s dead and I helped you find other men. At least that’s what I thought you wanted.”

“It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“Take your time.”

“I think it goes along with your ‘power of love’ thing. When I came back, you were the first person who cared how I was doing for my own sake. Jack, Ana, Angela, they wanted me back just for the sake of joining the team. Having another powerful soldier on their side. But you, the one I fought against the most, showed genuine kindness. You actually cared about me being comfortable in my own skin. And with this whole Siegfried deal. Someone else wanting me because I’m the best at what I do. And you came through again, keeping me sane and all. It reminded so much of Gerard and how he worked to keep me safe.”

“You want genuine affection, that’s it?”

“Yes I do. I have no idea where I would’ve ended up if you didn’t help me.”

“Well, I’d be more than happy to give you affection anytime,” The Brit replied as the two naked women embraced each other, much like they had in their sleep. Lena gave more smooches along Ameile’s shoulders and neck before ending with more on the lips. Ameile had to fight against her friend to get out of the bed and stretch out any aching muscles, all while letting Lena take in the view of her backside. 

“I need to clean myself up now. Care to join?”

“You read my mind or something?”

Ameile grabbed one of Lena’s hands and lead her into the room’s personal bathroom. It was designed with only single-person use in mind, with only a toilet, sink, cabinet-mirror, and small, open shower space equipped. All covered in a shade or orange its main user didn’t care for at all.

Lena rested the accelerator in the sink as Ameile closed the door and moved to turn on the shower’s hot water. It was a tight squeeze, hardly a few inches of space between them, through they wouldn’t want any other way. The two initially kept to themselves, cleaning their own bodies with the body wash and shampoo on hand. Of course, Lena was the one who started the excitement, throwing some of her suds across the narrow gap. That just made Ameile laugh and pull her closer, dumping more body wash down her head and watched as Lena’s damp hair covered her face. Pushing her brown strands aside to see after all the suds were washed away, Lena reached for the controls to turn the shower off. The two held each other by the hips, admiring their wet bodies with smiles.

“Do you love me too?” Lena asked.

This was something Ameile hadn’t put that much thought into. The Widowmaker in her nightmares had that part right. She was falling for Lena, much faster than she anticipated. But she wasn’t sure if these feelings were genuine or a way to cope with her grief. Either way, she didn’t want to admit to anything.

“I love you as a friend, but I don’t know in ‘that’ way yet. It was just one night.”

“One night was all it took for you and Siegfried.”

“That was different, I keep telling you.”

“And you and Gerard?”

“Well Gerard was actually charming and asked me to dinner first.”

“Are all your old boyfriends like that?”

“I did tell you I’m someone who needs affection, right?”

“But you’re pretty anti-social outside the team.”

“Only for the right people, then.”

Ameile pulled Lena closer for another kiss, with her hands against the back as the other girl ran her hands against Ameile’s cheeks, their tongues made passes at each other again. If neither had any plans for the rest of the day, they would’ve been perfectly content where they were right now.

“Huntress, please report to briefing room C,” Winston’s interrupting voice came up over the room’s intercom. The two broke their kiss, their romantic sessions at an end.

“I should respond to that,” Ameile said, leaving Lena to grab a towel and quickly dry herself off, dressing herself with a pair of underwear, sweatpants, and a t-shirt from her various cabinets.

“Go on. I can show myself out,” Lena said getting out of the bathroom too, drying herself off as well.

“Just remember to close the door when you leave.”

“A’ight. See you later, love.”

Ameile walked out and down the base’s hallways to where Winston wanted. It was probably going to be something bad, she thought. She should actually dread what Winston was going to say. But she didn’t. Even after her nightmare, she felt completely reinvigorated. And it all because of Lena. Maybe she was worth taking their friendship ‘that’ direction.

Maybe I am in love.

Ameile found briefing roof C on the lower level, among the many briefing and conference rooms. Winston was waiting for her by himself with the room’s computer ready, appearing rather restless and wearing the same suit of armor he wore yesterday. 

“Alright Winston, what is it?” Ameile said eager to get this session over with.

“First I want to make sure of something. Are you fine after what you found out yesterday?”

“I was upset, as everyone could tell. But Lena spent the night with me.”

“She did?”

“Yeah,” Ameile caught herself before going any further, thinking about the next words to say. She didn’t want anyone to think differently of her knowing she had sex with Lena. Especially during this time. “Just to make sure I didn’t have any other breakdowns or anything like that.”

“Well that’s kind of her. Anyways, as to why I’ve called you here. It took all night, but we have a possible location on Siegfried.”

Ameile’s eyes lit up and her mind shifted. At first, it was of excitement. Finally, she would have the chance to bring in the man who put her through more trouble than she dared to. Alive. Then anger filled her mind again. She wanted him alive, right? He wanted her as Widowmaker. Used her like Talon did for all those years. Something she could never forgive. Maybe he deserved worse.

“Where is he?” Ameile demanded.

Winston pulled up a map of Germany, zeroing in on the state of Bavaria. “Further looking through Sombra’s databases revealed some possible safehouses for her and her followers around the world. The one we believe he’s at is in a village in Bavaria. Near his hometown of Nuremburg.”

“When am I going?” she eagerly wanted to know “There’s no way I’m missing this mission.”

“Hang on for a moment. You’re not going by yourself.”

The mixed feelings of giddiness and hatred inside her gave way to only hatred “What?”

“Hanzo requested to go, thinking that he’ll find something about Sombra’s Japan plans there. And Ana and Reinhardt will be going too, to keep you on your leash. Not to mention the other recruits joining for support.”

“Siegfried is mine. Mine alone. I won’t have anyone standing in the way.”

“Be grateful you’re even going at all!” Winston started to raise his voice. “I had to convince Jack for an hour you were mentally capable enough. You better not make me regret that.”

“Winston, let me make you understand something,”

“No Ameile, you need to understand!” Winston shouted. She thought she saw lighting flash in his eyes. “You’ve been an exceptional member of the team when you joined, but lately, with your secret revenge missions, travels with Siegfried, and now with Sombra involved, you’ve been losing yourself. All this insubordination and going behind our backs when you should tell your leaders and teammates everything. We can’t fully trust you for the time being. That’s why you’re not going alone.”

Ameile couldn’t respond, because she knew Winston was right. There wasn’t any reason her teammates could trust her, moreso given her fragile mental state and the role Sombra wanted her to play in her plans. She was too susceptible to outside influences at the moment. 

“I recognize you’re still furious at this man, but if you kill him during the mission, we will found out, and you will be suspended.”

“Suspended? That man is a killer, wanted to turn me back into one. He needs to be stopped.”

“Maybe you’re already the killer he wanted you to be. This isn’t Talon where you kill everyone who stands in your way. We have rules to follow in Overwatch, a U.N. sanctioned organization. Suspended means no pay, no missions, no time with your teammates, no medical visits.”

Medical visits? No chance to meet Angela to see if her conditions were still in check? No medications? “You wouldn’t dare.”

“That’s what Jack and I agreed on. You could easily be thrown out with all our strict guidelines now. But we all still have faith in you. We want you to succeed, to not turn back into Widowmaker. But even we have a level of tolerance. Is everything understood?”

There was no way Ameile could win everything here. This was possibly her only chance to get back at Siegfried. So she had to agree to the conditions or let this opprotunity pass by. Or worse.

“Yes, monkey. I understand,” Ameile sternly replied.

“Good,” Winston didn’t make much of her tone. “Your ship leaves at 1700 hours. Plenty of time for you to prepare. Remember, if we find out you killed him.”

“Suspension, yeah I know.”

“Thank you. You’re dismissed.”

Ameile walked out of the briefing room and back to the direction of her quarters. She should be grateful this chance even existed, but she was more angry than anything. Angry at the restrictions placed on her. Angry at Siegfried for putting her in this position to begin with. Well, when I see Lena again, she thought, things will be alright.

When Ameile reached her room, she found it empty. Lena was gone and her garments from the pile of discarded clothes were missing. She must be back in her room, Ameile guessed. She was actually surprised Lena left, thinking the Brit would wait and hear what happened. Maybe it’s better for now, she reassured herself. I need to concentrate. With that, she went to her closet, grabbed one of the mission uniforms inside, and started to change.

The rest of Ameile’s day leading up to 1700 hours, aside from eating and freshening herself up, was spent on the base’s firing range. Round after round of bullets she loaded into her rifle ended up on the various targets and dummies thrown out for her. She wasn’t satisfied until she got the perfect shot for each intended spot on the body. Along with all manners of trick maneuvers too. Nothing would be left to chance. Despite what Winston said, Siegfried was still hers. She wanted to see him suffer as much as possible without killing him. 

Then an odd thought appeared in her head during the sessions. What if that’s what he wants? Me to kill him? As part of bringing Widowmaker back?

As 1700 hours approached, Ameile waited outside next to some bags, watching the recruits and armaments loaded onto the airship. Reinhardt’s armor was carted on with their assistance. And she saw the three main persons accompanying her board.

“Oh Ameile, so glad I caught you,” a voice was rushing up behind her. Angela’s voice.

“Doctor, you sure were a real help yesterday,” she bitterly responded. “I had the worst dream yet.”

“You did? I’m sorry to hear. But I found something to help you in the meantime.”

Angela handed over a case of pills, similar to the ones Ameile already carried around with her. There was some sense of disappointment, seeing how it didn’t appear that different from what she already tried.

“What are these supposed to do?” Ameile asked.

“They help you concentrate, bolt out any distractions. This is only a temporary fix, and I should have something better finished when you get back. Remember to take with your other meds.”

“Will do,” Ameile replied, putting the pills in one of her bags. Gathering the rest of her belongings laying on the asphalt, she made her way to the airship, confident she would get her man.

“Hey you!” 

That was Lena’s voice. Turning around, she found her friend, or is it lover now, standing there in a black Overwatch shirt and sweatpants, a few sizes too big for her. That silly girl stole my clothes! she thought. Well, she certainly knew how to make a last-minute appearance. 

“So, you’re really going after Siegfried?” Lena asked, approaching the woman standing outside the airship door.

“If not at this safehouse, then the next one, or the one after that.”

“It’s a shame I wasn’t called for this. I have some choice words for him, so at least bring him back alive so I can use them.”

“I have orders to. But I’ll do it just for you to make it better.” 

“See ya when you get back love,” Lena gave her friend a hug, and Ameile returned the favor, in the moment not caring if any of the people loading up the ship saw.

“Adieu Cherie,” Ameile teased as she headed inside.

“Stop calling me that!”

“I can call you whatever I want. Especially now that I know you get flustered easily.”

Ameile sat on the dropship next to Hanzo, across from Reinhardt and Ana, not paying too much mind to her conversation with Lena. She was one of the last persons to board with the pilot was going over the final pre-departure routine, with everything and everyone on board, ready to head to Nuremburg.

“So, are you ready?” Hanzo asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Ameile replied as the door closed, the ship starting to take off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of now, this is the only chapter of planned Ameile/Lena smut, but that may change, I'm not sure yet. 
> 
> I did establish earlier here and in Overwatch: The Second Omnic Crisis that Lena's had upgrades to her accelerator that allow her to take it off, but it still has to be in close proximity. Just in case anyone is confused.
> 
> Soundtrack:  
> La Femme d'argent - Air  
> Secret Touch - Rush  
> Perfect Day - Lou Reed  
> Leave a Trace - CHVRCHES


	9. Earthshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ameile and her team arrive in Nuremberg to capture Siegfried, but she nearly loses herself in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some possibly emotionally draining stuff ahead.

The Overwatch team arrived in Nuremburg and got fully situated close to midnight, setting up operations in the neighboring city of Furth. Three main groups of troops were prepared to carry out the planned safehouse raid. There was Reinhardt’s team of similarly armor-bound tanks, wearing suits that were a combination of Reinhardt’s armor and Korean Mekas. There were Ana’s force of standard ground troops, brining up the rear with support when the place would be breached. Lastly, there was Ameile’s small team of snipers, made up of Hanzo and three women she helped train. Carla Van Jonker, Ela Teke, and Chantrea Soun. Ameile wasn’t particularly close with them outside of training, but a teams a team, and she had to make the best of the situation. Especially given her new restrictions.

Upon getting settled in one of the city’s hostels the next day, Reinhardt planned on taking his unit out to a biergarten he knew about for pre-mission drinks. He invited Ameile and her comrades to come along, but she declined. The last experiences she had drinking on a mission, in Glasgow, ended up with her head in a toilet seat and getting very drunk with Lena. Ameile did think of a better use of her time before heading out. A meditation session.

She dug through her bags to find her medications, the one she took for stress, and the new one Angela gave her. Supposed to help me focus, that’s what she said. Well let’s see if it can. With that thought, Ameile popped open the caps of both bottles, let a pill out of each fall into her hand, and downed them. There were no liquids she could drink to make them go down easier, so she felt the plastic of the capsules slide down her throat as she forced them in.

Ameile moved back into her bed and sat in her meditative position, cross-legged with her open hands resting on her knees. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift away.

Ameile initially managed to clear her head of thoughts, only seeing the shades of red and orange from beneath her eyelids. Her breathing became more spaced out, the sound of her heartbeat became slower and slower, helping maintain a sense of security and focus.

But after a few minutes of maintaining this state, an image came up. One she couldn’t manage to shake. It was two figures, one holding a gun down at the other, who was on the ground clearly bleeding out. Ameile herself was not present, but the image kept getting closer and closer. It was solely black at first, but colors started to reveal themselves. Then the image became more in focus. A woman was holding the gun, and she recognized the man.

It was Siegfried. And the woman was Widowmaker. She turned her head to make eye contact at her.

“Are you meditating?” a voice interrupted Ameile’s session. Grateful for the distraction, she opened up her eyes to find Hanzo in her doorway, wearing a modified version of his traditional blue Japanese dress. One that was more in line with Overwatch’s color scheme and covered his whole chest to better deal with the central European cold.

“It helps me concentrate, makes me relax.”

“As it should. I didn’t take you Europeans for the kind to embrace that.”

“Neither did I. A few sessions with Zenyatta convinced me otherwise.”

“You mind if I join?”

“Not at all.”

Hanzo sat on the floor and assumed his own meditative position; sitting on his legs with hands resting on his knees, while Ameile when back to her’s. He knew he should’ve kept his eyes closed, but he wanted to see Ameile’s calm, peaceful face. Her attempts at maintaining a meditative state were admirable, but something notable seemed off. It was as if instead of keeping some level of awareness of the world around her, she had fallen right to sleep. Her head was moving side to side, rather erratically if Hanzo had to judge. And her breathing was no longer slow and steady. She was seeing something in her mind she didn’t like.

“Ameile, Ameile! Wake up!” Hanzo sternly told her, not going to loud as to disturb whoever might be nearby. But it was loud enough for her to hear, as Ameile opened her eyes back up shortly, realizing Hanzo was watching her the whole time, but not particularly upset about it.

“When you meditate, what do you see?” Hanzo inquired.

“Normally any number of Widowmaker’s killings. No matter what Zenyatta’s taught me about moving on from the past and whatever meds Angela has me on, some always appear. But lately, some other things are showing up. And they’re getting worse. They wouldn’t if Angela’s medication would actually work.”

“Worse?”

“When I was helping Siegfried kill his targets, I started having nightmares. About Widowmaker talking directly to me. Torturing me. Threatening to harm those I care about. Saying how I should just become her again. You saw Widowmaker in action, back in Lijiang and Numbani. You saw the ruthlessness she’s capable of, not giving a damn about who she killed, good or bad. Can you imagine being so heartless or turning that way?”

“I know the feeling all too well,” Hanzo started to become more solemn. “I’m the reason Genji is the way he is.”

Ameile remembered hearing parts of the story from the cyborg. How Angela saved him with his now-robotic form after being left for dead at Hanzo’s hands. Though Genji learned to fully accept his cyborg body, becoming a particularly effective agent, and forgave Hanzo for what he did, the older Shimada was still distraught, even if they were working together. 

“At least he’s still living,” Ameile tried comforting him, but Hanzo was too wrapped up in himself for the moment.

“Sometimes, when I meditate, I see what he would be like today. In his human form. With his occasionally green hair. Whether he’s still a playboy and went on his own adventures, or learned to embrace the clan, I don’t know. I only see his body. Then he slowly turns into the scarred state I left him to die in. I’ve killed many for the name of the Shimadas, but never have I regretted one like my brother. To think I did that for the good of the clan. To think I used to harm innocents for the sake of our honor.”

We aren’t that different, Ameile thought to herself once Hanzo finished pouring himself out. No wonder he felt a kinship to Widowmaker, and wants to spend time with me. We’ve been in the same situation, forced to kill those we care about.

“Archer,” Ameile started back up, “you may not have known this when we first worked together, but Widowmaker’s first kill was the man she loved. An Overwatch agent named Gerard Lacroix. He was the reason I was abducted and turned into that killer in the first place.”

“Because you loved someone?” Hanzo wasn’t entirely on board.

“He was my husband, and foiled many Talon operations.”

“Oh,” Hanzo finally realized, shaking at the thought. “That’s more cruel than anything the Yakuza would do.”

“Yes it was.” Ameile briefly let the room fill with silence, as Hanzo regained his bearings. They gave each other brief smiles before the Frenchwoman continued. “If I may inquire, I recall the Shimadas were getting out of organized crime.”

“I still plan on that. What to do next, I haven’t figured out yet. I hoped helping Overwatch would ease my mind in deciding the new path, but I’m not closer to finding it.”

“Would you ever consider joining Overwatch full-time, instead of your temporary plans?”

“They’re certainly powerful allies to have, but I think it’s best they remain that way for now. The Shimada clan needs someone to lead, and I’ve been groomed since childhood.”

“But is it what you want to do?”

“In matters of want, I’m determined to make it better, more noble. After seeing Reaper become so power-corrupt, I will fight not to let the same happen to more or anyone else.”

Both found this impromptu therapy session relaxing before the mission. Ameile certainly thought it helped take her mind off of other matters. Talking to Hanzo, oddly enough, was just like talking to Lena for her.

“We should do this again sometime,” Ameile recommended.

“Maybe,” Hanzo nervously proposed, “you can visit Hanamura? Anyone with Overwatch is welcome. The cherry blossoms blooming in spring are something to behold.”

Japan? Ameile thought. She’d never been there for pleasure before, only for Talon missions. Then something else came to mind. Was this Hanzo’s way of asking her out? Now of all times when there was a mission to do? And when she was uncertain of her feelings for Lena? But she didn’t want to hurt him, when he was trying to be good to her. And now that they understood where they each came from.

“I’ll consider it when this is over,” Ameile stated, thinking it was a good compromise.

Ameile’s phone started buzzing among her bags. Upon digging it out, she got a message from Ana, saying the teams were getting ready to mobilize and head out.

“Looks like we have to get ready,” Ameile said, digging out her uniform. Pulling her dark blue and orange-yellow tinged suit, she thought of something else to ask the archer.

“Out of curiosity, did you know about Genji and Lena?”

Hanzo gave off a very audible sigh. Something he’s done many times when hearing about his brother and other women. “At this point, I’m moreso wondering who he hasn’t slept with in Overwatch.”

 

Their target location was one of a group of abandoned warehouses in south Nuremburg, next to some man-made canals and rail lines. One that was a storage space for old Mercedes-Benz cars, both hovercars and wheeled vehicles. Ameile’s team made their way across the rooftops, latching their grappling hooks, in Hanzo’s case an arrow with cord attached to it, to get across the streets. Reinhardt and Ana’s teams stayed behind in a different abandoned warehouse, waiting for the go-ahead.

The moon was in a waxing crescent formation this evening, but instead of most nights where the sliver was the only thing visible, the rest of the surface was visible as well, more of a gray rather than bright white. It gave off enough light for Ameile, Hanzo and the other three troops to give off a silhouette on the roof across the street from their target. 

Ameile activated her visor and zoomed-in, giving her a few of the first line of defense they have to get through. Just a few guards making the rounds, marching in clockwork fashion around the upper floor, checking outside the open windows.

“What do you see,” Hanzo asked, figuring which arrow to use first.

“Aside from sentries in those two windows, three more are making the rounds on the upper floor. Only a few more on the lower level, but I suspect the rest are deeper inside. Most likely in an underground area.”

“You want us to take them out, Huntress?” Van Jonker asked, setting up her rifle. “Just give us the order.”

“Let me think,” Ameile pondered. Normally for an operation like this, she knew to hang back, take out any sentries or guards from a distance, and allow ground forces to do their job. But tonight was different. There would be no satisfaction on her part for letting things go to plan. She wanted to take matters directly into her own hands, leading the charge herself. Despite her orders not to kill, she longed to see Siegfried suffer for the path he set her own.

Go. Take them out on your own, a voice in her head said.

“Here’s what I want to happen,” Ameile finally said, formulating her plan. “This includes you, Hanzo. I’m gonna repel inside on my own and clear out the top half. Then get Reinhardt and Ana’s troops to storm the front.”

“You can’t be serious,” Hanzo protested. “What about backup? 

“If you’re as good a sniper as you claim to be, you’ll provide adequate covering fire.”

Without letting any more protests get in, Ameile turned on the aiming function of her visor, looking for the best spot to aim her grappling hook. She made sure to load in enough cord for extreme long distances such as this. Once her visor gave an adequate spot, finding a ledge above a window on the right side, she launched the hook across the street, latching perfectly onto the intended ledge. The cord pulled her in at such speed that her weight wasn’t too affected by the gravity.

“You’re letting your superior do something reckless like that?” Hanzo directed at the three other snipers, more concerned with maintaining their position and not being seen.

“Pretty headstrong, aint she?” Van Jonker remarked back. “Don’t worry, she and Amari trained us to be the best.”

“Chikusho,” (Shit!) Hazno panicked, going for his earpiece. Even if they were as good as they claimed, the woman he had gotten close to going in like that still unnerved him. “Reinhardt! Ameile went in by herself! She needs backup now!”

“Verdammt!” Reinhardt cursed in response. “Ana! Round up everyone! We’re moving in ahead of schedule!”

As Ameile was pulled closer and closer to the window, with cold evening air whooshing by her face, she worked to brace herself for any impact, bringing her legs in close to her chest. Some passing thoughts brought up how ill planned this was, but she heeded no mind. Just following the voice.

Go on. Kill.

A guard walked by the window on his shift, initially oblivious to what was happening outside. As he turned to look outside, as part of the routine, he saw the woman rapidly coming towards the open entrance. He could barely make out her look of determination, enough to send him in a panic.

“Fein dim umkreis!” (Enemy in the perimeter!) the guard shouted, raising his semi-automatic gun to fire. 

He never got the chance, as Ameile flew inside feet first. She landed with her left foot holding the flattened soldier down by his chest and shot him through his nose. The loud crack of the rifle in the now closed space was a dead giveaway to her presence. The three other guards on the top level, though far away, were rushing to figure out what happened. And with the giant rectangular hole leading straight down to the floor below, the entire base would be on alert shortly.

There’s no stopping now.

Ameile took care of the two troops running from the left first, planting a bullet each into each of their stomachs. The last soldier from the right charging straight at her had his gun up ready to fire, but was knocked down to the floor when a metal arrow pierced his throat. The archer’s still got it, she thought.

The base must’ve had a primitive security system in place, because Ameile heard a piercing siren go off. Her ears physically hurt, disrupting her attention and hands covering her ears to block out the sound. At the other end, eight soldiers got out of a large freight elevator, unaffected by the loud noise enveloping them. Ameile did notice them coming, but couldn’t bring herself to get armed, still covering her ears.

Looking at the group rushing towards her, Ameile slowly removed her right hand to hold her rifle, the pain immediately returning. She held it in her armpit, ready to activate sub-machine gun mode if needed. But suddenly, a crack rang out one up front was knocked down, a bullet gone through her head. The rest of the troops stopped, wary of what could possibly happen, aiming their guns past Ameile through the window. Then, in the span of a few seconds, more cracks echoed with three more falling down dead. The four remaining backed away slowly. They all feel down dead as well with another round of sniper bullets and a metal arrow.

“You’re in the clear, get moving!” Van Jonker shouted on the earpiece. “Reinhardt’s team will be arriving shortly.”

Not a moment afterwards, there was a loud crash from the floor below, and heavy metallic stomping making it’s way inside.

“Whoever has the most kills gets another round on me!” Reinhardt shouted, his hammer making its first contact with flesh. “And someone destroy that dammt alarm!”

Ameile got up, the pain still ringing in her ears, and ran the distance to the still open freight elevator. Looking to her left through the hole to the floor below, she caught glimpses of more dark clothed-clad troops attempting to break Reinhardt’s shield. Still running, she popped up the scope of her rifle, aiming at some heads. Three well-placed shots, resulting in more bloody bodies, lightened Reinhardt’s load, though he and his men still had to hold off whatever fire still came their way until Ana’s regiment arrived. 

Ameile arrived at the wide freight elevator and pulled down the strap to close the door. Assuming Siegfried would be in charge of this safehouse, Ameile guessed he would hide himself as far away from the main action as possible. So among the elevator buttons, she pushed the one marked with a U3. The elevator starting going downwards, giving Ameile a brief view of the battle happening on the ground floor as it passed.

You’ve done well so far, the voice in her head changed tone. Or did she only now notice how it was speaking to her. It wasn’t her voice. 

It was Widowmaker’s.

Don’t think about fighting it. Think of me as your guide. 

“Why? What would you know of this place?”

I can say your instincts about Siegfried are right. And that you still want to kill him.

“No. No killing. And I don’t take orders from you.”

That’s something you’re too blunt to realize. Well tonight, I’ll make you see.

The elevator stopped at the bottom underground level, revealing a dimly lit hallway with walls covered in rusted metal Disembarking, Ameile made her way slowly down the corridor, her rifle newly reloaded and visor scanning the rooms passing by. They were devoid of other people, housing more computer banks, bedrooms, and minor rec areas. Gunshots and Reinhardt’s loud grunts still echoed through the floor above her.

You’re so close. A few meters more.

At one hallway juncture, Ameile saw a signature through one set of double doors. A large room, with faint heat coming off from the machines lining the walls, and one burning white hot mass frantically moving around, talking to someone and cursing in German. The visor was turned off, and Ameile moved beside the door to listen.

“Gottverdammt, they’ll be down here any minute!” Okay, Siegfried’s in the room.

“Crees que no se que?” (You think I don’t know that?) That voice. That Spanish-tinged voice.

Sombra. 

Ameile leaned in against one of the doors ever so slightly, to avoid being noticed. In the sliver beyond she could make out, she could Siegfried gathering up papers and weapons from various tables and corners. He let his stubble grow into a rather unflattering attempt at a beard, with some uneven patches. On a large screen in the middle of the back of the room, Sombra was clacking away on her keyboard and purple light panels coming out of her fingertips, trying to figure out his getaway.

“Okay, here’re your arrangements. You’ll head down to the station and take take the 1 a.m. train heading for Budapest through Prague and Bratislava. When you arrive, get on the 8 am flight to Casablanca, and from there to Mexico City.”

“Extracting me yourself would be a whole lot easier.”

“Disculpe? (Excuse me?) My forces are really thinned out. It’s not my fault there aren’t any safe direct flights to Mexico for you.”

“Remind me again why you’re in that sweltering pit instead of actual civilization.”

“I could easily leave you behind and cover my tracks. You hired killers are as expendable as anyone who used to be with Talon. Be grateful I keep you around after your blunders.”

“My blunders? The Widowmaker plans were your idea! We don’t even know if it’ll fully work.”

“So full of doubts. I know Talon’s programming inside an out. It’ll work. If not you, I’ll do it myself. I’ll expect you back in Mexico at,” Sombra’s gaze looked beyond Siegfried, interrupted due to something else in the room. “Ay, what do we have here?”

Ameile gave up hiding and let herself be known, standing inside the doorway. She had heard enough. She walked down closer to the screen, somewhat oblivious to Siegfried backing away, looking for an escape.

“Widowma - I’m sorry, Ameile,” Sombra addressed her. “My you look just ravenous. But that Overwatch uniform, it kind of dampers your look.”

“Sombra, you still look horrendous.” 

“When a girl finds a look she likes, she sticks to it. Personally, I liked you blue. Made you easier to work with.”

“You’re not gonna get away with this.”

“I think you of all people know better than to threaten me.”

“No, with Widowmaker. She’ll never come back.”

“Don’t be so sure about that, amiga, with all my followers you killed on your way here. Besides, don’t you have a better reason for being here?”

Ameile suddenly remembered, and turned behind her. The door leading out into the hallway was flapping in and out, with Siegfried gone.

“I’ll let you two catch up. Adios!” Sombra cut off the transmission. With her old compatriot gone, Ameile ran back out into the hallway, seeing Siegfried enter the freight elevator. He pulled down the door and pressed one of the buttons, Ameile was unsure of which one.

“Hanzo! Ana! Reinhardt! I’m in pursuit of the target. We’re underground now,” Ameile quickly got off into her earpiece. 

“You need any help?” Hanzo quickly replied. “We’re all inside.”

“No, he’s mine,” Ameile ran down the hallway, determined to end this chase quickly. But the elevator rose before she even got close. Siegfried only acknowledge the angry woman after him by firing a few rounds through the gaps to try and scare her. He just looked upward, eager to get off at the next possible time.

“Nom de Dieu!” (Goddammit!) Ameile cursed. She couldn’t even get a thought in as to where he was heading before running to the emergency staircase.

If he’s going to the train station, how would he reach there?

The very back, Ameile remembered. There were some rail lines passing behind the warehouse. He could just easily follow those or catch another train to the station. Her mind was flowing too fast to activate the targeting function of her visor, instead launching her grappling hook at the railings alongside the stairs. She was pulled up, with one hand hanging on while her grappling hand launched it again at the next level of stairs. Ameile continued doing this until she reached the top, with a door heading outside to the roof.

Just as a spider moves.

Outside, the door was located right next to ledge overlooking the rails and streets below. Ameile’s instincts were correct, for as she looked over, Siegfried was down there on the ground, thinking he had lost his pursuer. Ameile’s scope aimed right at the man, spinning around armed to look in all directions he wasn’t being followed. The sight was aimed right at his chest. Either through the heart or one of his lungs. He can’t live long after that.

Kill him.

No, she decided. Aim for the legs. He can stand to suffer a bit more.

With a slight downward tip, Ameile aimed at his left kneecap. A fitting punishment for now. It’ll set up what’s to come. Satisfied with her thought process, she pulled the trigger, giving off a loud crack into the night. Siegfried had no time to react, as Ameile saw the figure collapse immediately, gripping his leg in pain.

Her grappling hook was fastened to the ledge as she jumped over the side and let gravity do the work. Keeping close to the side of the building without letting her feet touch the metal, Ameile landed on the ground in the few seconds, quickly let her hook retract, and ran towards her prey, digging something out of one of her pouches. 

“Kommen sie nicht naher!” (Don’t come any closer!) Siegfried shouted, trying to hold up his gun, but more concerned about applying pressure on his knee. When Ameile reached him, she revealed a syringe with a yellow solution inside. Some of Ana’s healing potion, a quick recovery for Overwatch troops when a doctor wasn’t present. She stuck it straight through his trenchcoat and undershirt into his shoulder, and after a brief wince of pain, Siegfried started to calm down.

“Not what I expected from you,” Siegfried remarked, still nervous about what awaited him.

“This will temporarily stop the bleeding,” Ameile remarked, looking at the wound she caused. Her bullet went clean through his kneecap, no doubt damaging whatever muscles, tendons, and other bones were connected. Blood and pus were filling up the perfectly circular space and seeping out both ends of his pants. “You still have some use to me alive,” she grabbing him by his coat’s collar.

“That hardly sounds reassuring.”

“Let’s start with one thing. How?”

“Well, that could mean any number of things.”

“That night we first met. In Paris. How’d you know I would go along with what you’re doing? And how’d you know I was there?”

“Sombra has eyes and ears everywhere, as I’m sure you know. I was already in the area when I got the call to follow you and your group of friends. And oh, you did not disappoint. Your ideas for killing Lazare Cavey. Dumping the body into the Siene in Limours. Worked like a charm. And the idea of revenge is too tempting for anyone to pass up. Especially for one of your prowess.”

Ameile had completely forgotten that part of her first evening for Gerard. The reason, well now one of the reasons, he was in Paris. Another dead, possibly atoned, person on her hands.

“But I know everything about you now. What you really did for Talon. Who you really killed and why. I know you left because you didn’t like Widowmaker.”

“You said it yourself. You were forced to be a killer, while I willingly embraced that desire. Fleeing Talon, what that a shortsighted decision. Never got to fully see what you’d turn into, all the impressive killings you’d do. I don’t get why Sombra wants Widowmaker back when you, you Ameile, are still perfectly serviceable. Even if you’re not blue.”

“Why? Why does Sombra want Widowmaker back when she has people like you?”

“That’s the question of the evening right there. I’m not entirely sure myself. The closest I can gather is she wants her last Talon friend back. But a task is a task. Who am I to question?”

“She can never have me back. I would rather die than turn back into that monster!”

“You might as well finish that up. It would make my job easier.”

Then she recalled part of the conversation she overheard between him and Sombra. Admitting how he was aware of the plans to turn her back. And something about Talon’s programing. Was that really still in play?

“You knew?”

“I know many things. Please be specific.”

“You knew I’d see Widowmaker in my head? Trying to get me to turn back in my nightmares? Even as I wanted you to help me?”

“Oh, you naïve bitch. You ever wonder why that is? Talon put in a failsafe in your head in the event your conditioning does break. To lead you back to their side. And I gather what you’re saying is it’s manifestation. Nothing short of a full lobotomy can stop it completely.”

A failsafe? 

“Overwatch has the best doctors in the world. I’m sure they’ll find a way.”

“I’d like to see them try.”

For a man possibly staring death in the face, there was a bite in his voice. He didn’t care what she thought of him anymore, now that truths were out. There was once last thing Ameile had to know. One that, by now, she was sure of the answer.

“You, you, never had any real feelings for me, did you?”

Siegfried initially didn’t give a verbal response. His face gave off the expression of “Of course,” but only faintly. He was thinking of one last way to rub salt in the wound.

“I like to think that aspect was a bonus for us. An extra layer of companionship.” 

That was the last insult Ameile could bear. She picked up her rifle and put the nuzzle right on his forehead.

“Gut dann, (Well then) so you’re finally gonna kill me?”

Yes, do it.

“I have orders to bring you in alive, but you’re making very hard to keep that promise.”

“Clearly, I’m not leaving here of my own will. You might as well finish.”

This is your chance. Embrace me. 

“Stop it! Get out of my head!”

Volontier. (Gladly) 

Ameile looked up from the wounded man, thinking the voice now came from somewhere else. She could swear she saw Widowmaker, walking towards her out of the shadows, armed with her rifle. It’s impossible. She can’t be in the real world.

“Non! Non!” Ameile wailed in her confusion. “You can’t be out here!”

“Was zum Teufel?” (What the hell?) Siegfried was just as confused about what was happening. Ameile broke her attention to shout into the thick air. And who was she aiming at? Then, he thought about the possibilities of what the failsafe would be. He didn’t know what it would show her, but he could gather an idea from this display.

“She’s here, isn’t she?” 

Tell him yes. Then end his miserable life.

“You can’t tell me what to do! You’re not really here!” Ameile continued to shout into the nothingness.

Oh really? Seeing as I helped lead you to him?

“Wie herrlich (How glorious). Ameile Lacroix truly would rather go mad than embrace her destiny again.”

“You!” Ameile redirected at Siegfried, aiming her rifle back at him. “It’s your fault! You made her appear again!”

“She was gonna show up again at some point. Though this matter was unexpected.”

Yes I was.

“Whatever she’s telling you to do, do it.”

Ameile knew Widowmaker wasn’t really there, but she could still her cold arm reaching down the length of her arm, moving her fingers into place, reaching for the trigger. 

Let me just help you.

“No me toques!” (Don’t touch me!) Ameile shouted, spinning around to knock Widowmaker down with her rifle, only to fall to the hard ground on her back. She nervously twitched the weapon around, trying to anticipate where her enemy would show next.

Pathetic, Widowmaker reappeared standing over the collapsed body. Solely to mock her. Must I do everything myself? she threatened, aiming her rifle at Siegfried.

“Non!” Ameile screamed, shooting her rifle upward at Widowmaker. A few bullets, she thought, went through the blue woman, but she disappeared. As she got up, pointing her rifle around the grassy rail lines, her attention was no focused on the wounded man. It was making sure Widowmaker wouldn’t harm her again.

T’as pas de couilles (You don’t have the balls) Widowmaker insulted her when she appeared again. You’ve always been weak.

“I’m stronger than you’ll ever be!” Ameile shouted, firing at her taunting, evil half, with the bullets causing her to fade.

Talon gave you a true purpose in life, let you see your potential, instead of hiding some other agent. Just imagine what you could do now without them holding you back.

“You have no life outside Talon!” The routine played itself out again and again. Ameile would shoot at her visionary Widowmaker, she would disappear, then reappear to drive her further into madness. Ameile nearly wasted what was left of her ammo trying to stop the phantom, but it continued to taunt. 

I would’ve been halfway back to Talon headquarters by now.

Huntress, huh? Yet you can’t hunt me down.

People will always see you as a killer. No matter what life you’ve made for yourself.

“Ahhhhh!” Ameile wailed one last time before collapsing. She fell on her side, the rifle sliding out of her hands. Her body started to shiver and she curled up in warmth. The only sound around her was Siegfried starting to go back to convulsing in pain, the healer given to him starting to wear off. Ameile couldn’t be bothered to get back up and see how the bleeding was. She was still paranoid about Widowmaker. 

She wanted Lena here with her. To comfort her. To hold her. To kiss her and tell her everything will be alright.

“Ameile,” a husky voice called out, approaching the traumatized woman.

With a yelp, Ameile spun her legs behind her to knock down the potential adversary. Grabbing her rifle, she quickly rose to her feet and aimed down. She most likely would’ve fired if it were someone other than who it turned out to be.

Hanzo.

“Ameile,” Hanzo tried soothing her while staring down the rifle barrel. “This is not the woman I poured myself out to. You’re better than this.” The wide-eyed look she gave in return screamed of desperation, some kind of release, wanting some kind of hope again.

“Hanzo,” Ameile collapsed on her knees, falling forward until her head was caught by the Japanese man’s shoulder, enveloping her arms around him, continuing to cry.

“Nothing can hurt you know,” Hanzo reassured her, keeping her close with his arms. “I see you found the target.”

Ameile couldn’t form the strength to make words, but gave a nodding motion of her head into his shoulder.

“Reinhardt, Ana,” Siegfried talked into his earpiece. “I found Ameile and Siegfried behind the buidling. He’s looks to be bleeding out and Ameile, . . . she’s not doing good. . . understood. Don’t worry Ameile,” he directed towards her. “Help is on the way.”

“Is, is she gone?” Ameile mumbled.

“There’s no one else here besides us.”

“Widowmaker. She was here.”

“You’re perfectly safe. There’s no one to harm you.”

“Hanzo, I’m so cold.”

“Then I’ll keep you warm.” 

Hanzo hummed a song from his youth, slowly, trying to ease Ameile back out of her fears. Oddly enough, she felt the shoulder she was resting on heat up, thinking she saw some blue light faintly escape from the fabric of Hanzo’s uniform, making it’s way down to his left hand. They remained that way until some of Ana’s regiment found them, bringing the two and Siegfried back to their base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I do ship Ameile with Hanzo too, but Ameile/Lena is still tops here.
> 
> Soundtrack
> 
> Earthshine - Rush  
> Kill V Maim - Grimes  
> Losing It - Rush


	10. Sweet Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried is brought back to Gibraltar for interrogation. Meanwhile, Ameile and Lena try to figure out where they stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the home stretch. After this, there will be two more chapters.
> 
> And yes, I was in the middle of writing this when the whole Emily bombshell dropped. So there's a brief explanation as to why she's not here.
> 
> Also, thank god I was right about how Lena doesn't need to wear the accelerator all the time.

Ameile sat in Angela’s waiting room, nervously waiting what she had to say after a long night. As soon as the Nuremberg team came back to Gibraltar after capturing their target and gathering whatever intel lay in the safehouse, Ameile went straight to the Swiss doctor, desperately wanting to know if Siegfried’s claim of a Talon failsafe in her head was true. Even if Angela had to completely rework what she was teaching her students that day, it was something she didn’t think of when she brought the Frenchwoman back from the dead. So Angela had Ameile lay in an MRI machine, hoping to find any natural abnormalities she may have left behind. 

Angela walked into the room carrying some manila folders, followed by a few of her students. She urged them to leave.

“Well, anything?” Ameile desperately asked.

“I’m glad you came to me,” Angela started out. “The idea of a failsafe would definitely explain what’s happening in your head. But, I didn’t find anything.”

Ameile was stunned. “Nothing?”

Angela pulled out some MRI images from one of her folders, showing Ameile’s brain. 

“Normally the MRI will pick up any traces of particularly abnormal brain activity, or things like tumors or implants. But even with the amount of time you spent in there, observing you in a sleeping state, nothing came up.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If there is any failsafe in your head, it’s certainly deeper than what my machines can detect. Or there’s particular triggers for it. Though that won’t stop me the slightest.”

In the middle of the explanation, Jack barged into the room, having held off on scolding Ameile until she was back to her senses. 

“You!” Jack shouted. “I ought to have you suspended for your reckless behavior. A sniper leading a battle charge? Who does that? Nobody!”

“Jack, we’re in the middle of something,” Angela tried to slow Jack down.

“You’re lucky soldiers weren’t seriously wounded. I would’ve taken you to the U.N. myself to explain your actions!”

“Jack, we got Siegfried!” Ameile interjected. “Along with what other intel you wanted. I don’t know what more you could ask!”

“I don’t want you putting my men in needless danger.”

“They were going to be fighting anyway, how would I’ve prevented anything different?”

“Jack!” Angela shouted. “Now’s not the time to aggravate Ameile.”

“This woman needs discipline,” Jack retaliated. “And there’s no waiting around for that.”

“She’s in a very fragile state. I just got back her MRI scans.”

“Well?” Jack didn’t relent on his tone.

“Nothing. If there’s something still in her head, it’s deeper than what I can find.”

“Where’s Siegfried now?” Ameile asked, getting the topic away from her.

“He’s being interrogated as we speak,” Jack stated. “He’s still in bad shape after that bullet you put in his leg.”

“You did say no killing, after all,” Ameile snarkily said.

“Hehe,” Jack gave a sarcastic laugh in return. “But he may as well have died.”

“I’d like to see him,” Ameile demanded.

Jack and Angela exchanged looks, wondering if Ameile was sound enough to see the man. Angela had no problems, as she nodded her head.

“As you wish,” Jack responded, leading Ameile and Angela out of medical wing to the section of interrogation rooms in the basement.

They found Reinhardt, Ana, and Winston standing outside the interrogation room Siegfried was held in. It had one glass wall for people to observe, the rest were white metal. Siegfried was sitting a metal chair, handcuffed, with a primitive leg brace around his left leg and crutches resting on the floor next to him. Thick gauze wrapped around his knee, and he seemed pretty unresponsive to his interrogator. Head leaned down towards the table, but occasionally making eye contact with the person sitting across from him.

“He’s been like that for the past five minutes,” Winston pointed out. “Not saying anything other than repeating himself. Sombra’s in Mexico and she’s holing up preparing for our attack. 

“Why’s he talking?” Ameile asked.

“He’s going to prison no matter what,” Jack commented. “So we promised him a pristine cell for his cooperation.”

“May I speak to him?” 

“What for? We have everything we need to finally tack Sombra down.”

“Closure.”

Jack didn’t have any issue with her reasoning, but he gave a look to the other observers, waiting for some kind of approval. Angela and Ana nodded their heads, figuring it be best.

“You have ten minutes max,” Jack told her, pressing a button on the glass wall’s frame to notify the interrogator inside to leave. She walked out through a door in the glass, with Ameile followed in. As soon as Siegfried saw who was now in the room with him, he gave a sly smile through his sleep-deprived face and scraggly beard.

“Ah liebling,” Siegfried raspily said. “I take it you’re not gonna finish the job?”

“Beau,” Ameile started off with, taking her seat. “How’s your leg? I pray I wasn’t too gentle on it.”

“One of your doctors said I might never get the proper feeling back. It will have to get amputated just below the knee. And replaced with a metal prosthetic.”

“Hmm, my friends in Australia could make one fitting for you. One’s that rusty, creaking, and has no toes.”

“Hmh, weak threats. Why’re you even in here? I told Overwatch everything I know already. You want to see my face one last time before they haul me away?”

“I wouldn’t give a fuck if I ever saw you again or not. But there is something I want to hear from you.”

“And what would that be?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?”

“Who you really are. What you did for Talon. Your relationship with Sombra now. Why you lied to me about everything. I want to hear it come from your petty mouth.”

“I just told that other interrogator everything.”

“We’re gonna have you locked up for a long time. That’s if you survive your amputation. I’ll get it out of you eventually. So you better start talking.”

Siegfried took a deep breath, staring into Ameile’s piercing blue eyes. He could tell she was holding back, so he figured he tell everything. Again.

“Ever since I was a young boy, I’ve been fascinated by how easy it is to take a living being’s life. People squash bugs with their feet or flush them down the toilet without giving a second thought. Or hunt animals for sport. And people kill each other for the most bizarre reasons. Or pure accident. It’s a complex thing to wrap your head around.

I killed my first man when I was fifteen, in a hooligan brawl after a football game. Broken beer bottle to the head. I found the sensation exhilarating, that I was living for the first time. Of course I had to flee town to avoid getting arrested. So I briefly settled near the Germany/Austria/Switzerland border, becoming a freelance hitman. And after a few years of that, Talon came calling, wanting me to take care of deep cover assassinations. And I accepted immediately.

I wasn’t lying about seeing what Talon did to you. How it repulsed me. But more along the lines of ‘If Talon can just make their own assassins, what use would they have for someone who desired to kill their whole life?’ So eventually, I made my complaints heard. And of course, Talon ignored me, saying I needed to know my place. And that’s why I fled and went back into hiding.

I went back to freelance work, doing many . . . less than glamorous killings. Jealous lovers, people holding grudges, the biggest hits I got were small-time politicians in villages. They all died in mysterious accidents or apparently committed suicide, in ways that baffled authorizes. And of course, Overwatch had much bigger problems to deal with than one petty hitman trying to get by.

In those passing years, I continued to try and read all I could about you. Sightings of a killer blue woman around the world as Overwatch fell and the years since. Taking out important people one by one. It definitely made me regret leaving, mainly that I wasn’t a part of any of those. That I couldn’t see what skills you possessed. I may have learned a few lessons from you, given the chance. 

A few days after word got out Talon fell and Overwatch was coming back, I got a message from Sombra. Saying her personal agenda could flourish even more since Talon wouldn’t hold her back. So she was trying to gather as many former Talon people she could to lead something new. Something to create more chaos in the world than Talon ever could. I jumped at the chance, thinking it would be better worth my time.

Of course, not everyone wanted in, with dissenters either revealing what they knew or just wanting to be left alone. Of course, Sombra couldn’t let that stand, and that’s what I’ve spent most of my time doing. Until she assigned me to you. And that brings us to now.”

“Wait,” Ameile interrupted. “That night in Glasgow where you just left. Why?”

“What I said then, to find new leads. Sombra thought you were far enough along then to continue the mission on your own.”

Sombra must’ve been certain this plan would work, thinking the conditioning would somehow magically reassert itself. Well, she only got part of that right. Ameile also remembered how if Siegfried failed, she would do it herself. A fitting conclusion for our entanglements, Ameile thought, for the woman she particularly despised.

“Siegfried, I may have told you all this already, but allow me to reiterate. I fell for you because I thought you were someone who could help, understand what I’ve been though. I do kill on missions, but that’s because I believe I’m improving the world in some way. Mainly from stopping salauds (bastards) like you from taking lives like I once did. I may have spared your life, but don’t think for a second I forgive you.”

“That’s what Sombra said she’d use you for. Improving the world.”

“Sombra only cares about creating chaos and manipulating the remains. Believe me, I know.”

“As do I, but oh, were you perfect at doing the same.”

That little bit of undermining. Ameile had to keep reminding herself she’s a different person now, to be collected to avoid screaming in his face.

“She wanted you in Mexico City. Is that where her headquarters are?”

“Yes she’s there. But it’s a city of twenty-five million people in a mass urban sprawl. You be looking for months. That’s if she doesn’t flee first.”

“We expended a fraction of our power finding you in your hole. Just imagine what a full force can do hunting down our most wanted.”

“In one of the world’s largest cities? Sounds like a lot of collateral damage.”

“We’re gonna get Sombra, one way or another. And nothing you can say will phase me anymore. I’m starting to think your failsafe was a lie too.”

“Can’t you trust me on anything now?”

“I had MRI’s done and they showed nothing.”

“Believe me, they’re there. In recesses of your mind you never imagined.” 

Ameile felt she got everything she wanted from the man, and had her thoughts confirmed. Siegfried was no better than the old Talon leaders who manipulated her. He certainly deserved whatever was coming to him in prison. She thought about walking out, leaving him to his fate, but something else in her mind bothered her.

“One last thing. Why’d you think me finding out about Lena loving me would tear us apart?”

Siegfried thought he had a response, but instead gave a look suggesting he had to think of one.

“Because you were in love with me?” Siegfried replied. A clearly half-assed answer.

“You nitwit. Of all my friends here, Lena cares for my well-being the most. She practically saved me from my suicidal thoughts. Morso than what Angela and Zenyatta had done.”

“I know, she told me.”

Something else clicked in Ameile’s head. Was that what Siegfried and Lena were fighting about? Or why Lena never particular trusted him? 

“I can never repay her enough for all Lena’s done. She’s certainly a better lover than you are!” Ameile blurted out, trying to get one last insult at him in.

How stuck up her tone was at the last statement surprised even herself. Flat-out admitting she had sex with her best friend. Siegfried just gave a wide-eyed look and, after taking a few seconds to process, started laughing.

“The annoying Brit? Oh that just made my day Ameile. You have gone crazy!”

“Lock this man up,” Ameile demanded whoever was listening in on their conversation, standing up and preparing to leave. “I don’t know how, but I’ll see to it you never get your leg.” 

As Ameile walked back out, with Siegfried continuing to laugh to himself, the five onlookers gave her a collective stare, one of a muted shock.

“What? Was I too demanding?” Ameile wondered.

“No, not that,” Winston said. “But would you care to explain more about you and Lena?”

 

Ameile ran back down the hallways to Lena’s room. She just had a marathon session explaining the situation between herself and the Brit. Trying to pass it off as nothing serious and it wouldn’t go anywhere beyond where it did. And yes, she had to point out the irony of how they used to be archenemies, and that Widowmaker had nothing to do with it. Oddly enough, the five onlookers took the news better than she thought they would, but Ameile still felt anxious inside. 

Ameile arrived in front of a door marked for Lena “Tracer” Oxton. A few rooms down from her own. How would she take this news, Ameile constantly repeated to herself. Would she be mad? Indifferent like everyone else? She swallowed and gave the door a knock.

“Who is it?” Lena’s voice lazily called out.

“Lena, open up. We need to talk,” Ameile demanded.

“Hold on,” Lena took a few seconds to open up her door. She appeared with some sleep still in her eyes, wearing a loose fitting white top and orange sweatpants, her accelerator resting on the windowsill. Her hair was notably de-poofed, the spikes running down the side of her head. Making the most of a day off, it appeared.

“Hey love,” Lena reached to give Ameile a hug. The Frenchwoman just brushed it aside as she walked inside. “Did Angela figure it out?”

“She didn’t find anything,” Ameile hurried out, to get to her topics. “There’s something more important we need to talk about. About us.”

“Oh really?” Lena was intrigued.

“I may have let it slip out we had sex,” Ameile admitted, shamefully.

“Oh,” Lena reacted rather nonchalantly. “Didn’t know you wanted to keep that a secret.”

“Of course I did! I’m going through lots of stuff and didn’t want people to think,” Ameile paused when she realized how Lena worded her response. “Wait, you didn’t tell anyone when I was gone, did you?”

“I didn’t know it was a secret!”

“Nom de Dieu, Lena! Who’d you tell?”

“Just Lucio, Hana, Genji, some of the new people.”

“Vous salope!” (You slut!) Ameile started slapping Lena on the head, the Brit meekly defending herself, being forced against one of the dressers.

“Well what about you letting it out?” Lena tried getting in amid the fury of slapping. Ameile stopped, remembering she was at fault too.

“Who else knows?” Lena continued, lowering her arms.

“Winston, Jack, Angela, Ana, Reinhardt, pretty much those at Siegfried’s interrogation.”

“So that’s close to everyone then?”

Who else was left out, Ameile thought. Aleksandra, Fareeha, Jesse, Satya, Zenyatta, Torbjorn but who really cares what he thinks about romantic matters? The name that stuck out most was Hanzo. She no doubt believed the archer was attracted to her, but didn’t have a proper gauge on how he’d react to such a revelation. After he’d been supportive of her the same way Lena has been.

“I mean they didn’t overreact like you’re doing,” Lena continued. “I’ve brought men and women I’m involved with back to base before.”

Ameile just lay down on Lena’s bed, her hands covering her face trying to cover a weak attempt at a scream.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Lena tried reassuring her, making her way over.

“I told Siegfried about us too and he said I was crazy.”

“What do you care what he thinks?” 

“I’ll be honest. I don’t know if what we have, what we did, is genuine or a coping mechanism for me.”

“Coping? What for?”

“Oh I don’t know. Because my boyfriend was manipulating me into turning back to a mindless assassin and said assassin is haunting my dreams and possibly coming out to reality.”

Why’s she so concerned about people knowing? Lena wondered. People in Overwatch have been pretty open about who they were dating both before and after the Petreas Act and reacted normally to each instance. Why should Ameile be different now? Especially since Gerard used to take her to bases?

“Listen Ameile,” Lena started out with her idea. “How did people react when Gerard brought you around bases?”

“Not too different from anyone else,” Ameile replied, removing her hands from her face. “I was always trying to make friends.”

“And we’re all friends here. Why would we treat you any different when you’re sleeping with someone else?”

Ameile figured she was right. Even when she thought Siegfried wasn’t a bad person, she at least had the team on her side, supporting her. They just wanted each other to be happy.

“I’m not kidding about my other dates. I’ve snuck plenty in here when the Petras Act was still in effect. There was this one girl, cute redhead named Emily, I brought her here for Christmas dinner with Winston one time. This other guy, total wanker named Jeffrey, I considered showing him around, but he could be kind of controlling at times, which is why I dumped him.” 

Emily? Jeffrey? Ameile could certainly imagine Lena dating other people, either in or outside of Overwatch, but this was the first time she heard it right from her mouth. It must’ve been something she didn’t like bringing up.

“If I was still dating either of them, or anyone else for that matter, I would definitely bring them here now, to see if they could really handle me. And let them know they’d be safe.”

“You dumped Jeffrey, what happened to Emily?” Ameile asked out of curiosity.

Lena breathing got slightly shorter, as having to recall something hurtful. Ameile thought she could see Lena’s eyes getting red, though she didn’t know if it was from sleep or not.

“It was mutual,” was all Lena got out. Ameile felt it best to leave it at that, knowing this must’ve been someone special to bring up in front of someone she claimed to love now.

“Tell me,” Lena got back on track. “When you’re around me, how do you feel?”

Ameile got herself back up to make proper eye contact. “Like I’m safe. Lena, I never realized how much I needed you in my life till that night. Lying defenseless as Widowmaker taunted me. Made me feel worthless. I wanted you beside to make me feel I could get through that.”

“But Hanzo was there.”

“And Hanzo’s not you. We may have similar pasts, traits, and he was there for one time, but he wasn’t for the others. I need you to be my anchor, my rock. To keep me sane when instances like that occur. Because I don’t think they’ll end anytime soon. And if I end up going to Mexico City, I might be compromised again.”

“Anything you need, I’ll be there,” Lena said, finally reaching in for the hug she was denied earlier.

“I feel alive when I’m with you,” Ameile whispered into her ear.

Lena backed away, still maintaining her hold on Ameile, though having a dumbfounded look on her face. “You being serious?” 

Without further protest, Ameile grabbed Lena’s head and pulled it in for a kiss. Lena’s eyes opened wide before closing them in return, letting Ameile’s tongue probe inside her mouth, her lips stroking against hers.

“Is that serious enough, cherie?” Ameile asked when she broke the kiss.

“No, don’t need to convince me anymore,” Lena replied, dazed, trying to catch her breath. She didn’t even acknowledge being called cherie again.

“Good. Now would you mind if I stopped by here later tonight?”

 

Ameile visualized the move ahead of her on the open mat. No one else was in the gym to ruin her concentration. This is no different from ballet, she tried convincing herself. Or any other acrobatic maneuvers. Confident in her conditioned upper-body strength, Ameile put her hands down on the mat and raised the rest of her body in the air, getting her sweatpants-covered legs straight after a few seconds.

Ameile could feel her abs tighten to the point they could spontaneously combust. The bottom of her black workout tank top fell down enough to expose her belly button. Her arms were catching fire as blood rushed to her head. She could only hold for a few seconds more, trying to keep herself perfectly straight. Her legs started wavering, so she tried briefly spreading her legs to regain her balance. 

Finally, Ameile couldn’t take anymore. She let her legs fall back and touch the mat, much to the relief of her upper body. Her tried arms reached out as if she performed a complicated ballet maneuver, but immediately fell down to her sides. She dragged herself over to a nearby punching bag, starting to give roundhouse kicks.

“Figured you’d be down here,” a raspy voice came from the gym’s entrance. Jack’s voice. Ameile paid no mind, going back to giving kicks, dreading what he had to say. 

“You gonna yell at me more?” the sniper bitterly replied, thinking she’d hear something else about her behavior or being involved with Lena.

“No, I came to, um, apologize.”

Ameile stopped, looking at the commander in his casual wear. When did Jack ever apologize for his actions? Even when talking about his Soldier 76 days, he always tried finding an excuse to justify himself back then.

“Commander Jack Morrison, apologizing? Never thought I’d see the day. Did Angela put you up to this?

The initial silence told Ameile all she needed to know. “There’s something else I’d like to talk about,” Jack got out. “Follow me to my office.”

“Now? I’m in the middle of my workout.”

“Ameile, you’re not gonna see me be this kind often. Now if you’d mind,” Jack motioned to leave.

Ameile did follow, with Jack leading her up a flight of stairs to the male wing of dormitory single rooms. Wouldn’t a commander of Overwatch have something more expansive or dignified than this, she thought. Closer to the actual center of operations here? At the end of a long hallway was one door marked for a Commander Morrison, which he opened.

Jack’s office was just his converted bedroom, though he was given a larger one than the other males to begin with. Aside from his bed, personal bathroom, and cabinets, there was a large screen beside the window showing several maps of Mexico City, no doubt drawing up battle plans. His Soldier 76 jacket hung on the wall next to his bed, the visor he used during that time resting on the desk in front of the screen. Next to the visor was a smaller screen scrolling through pictures from his younger Overwatch days. He was cracking a smile in each one she saw witth people she recognized. One with Reinhardt and Torbjorn, one with pre-eyepatch Ana and Fareeha who could’ve been no more than ten, one with a particularly young, possibly just joined Angela, and one with Jesse and Gabriel where, oddly enough, Gabe was smiling too.

“I take it you remember that?” Jack pointed at the jacket over the bed.

“The infamous Soldier 76,” Ameile’s attention was drawn back to that, having fought beside Jack’s persona when Talon fell. “Of course I remember.”

“Every morning, I wake up and that jacket is one of the first things I always see. Reminding me of what my life outside Overwatch was. I know I constantly say how your actions threaten the team, exaggerate how we’ll get disbanded again. But it’s because I don’t want to see us go back to that seperated life. I’ve done horrible things as Soldier 76, killed needless lives. That jacket and that visor remind me to keep doing better than that I used to be. To be the leader you all deserve. I imagine you feel the same way?”

“Yes,” Ameile admitted. “Though I got rid of every trace of Widowmaker I could.”

“I don’t blame you. Let me ask you Ameile, after you came back to us, if you didn’t want to be part of the team, what would you’ve done?”

Ameile honestly didn’t know. Her mind then was filled with suicidal thoughts and getting back at Talon. Hardly enough time for other thoughts of what to do. She was modified to be a soldier, same as Jack. She supposed she was meant to remain that way, no matter who she fought for.

“I, don’t know.” 

“Same here, from someone who’s also been groomed to be a soldier. Overwatch has been my life for decades now. And as commander, it’ll be that way probably until I die. The others, they found their own lives outside here. Angela was doing great medical work, Torbjorn can fix whatever he wants, Fareeha worked for Helix, Genji, like it or not, could make something of himself either in Japan or in Omnic rights. And Lena? God knows what other work saving people she could do in the UK, or being a pilot like she always wanted. Me? I still played soldier, going on my own crusade, trying to take Gabe down and, well you know how that ended.

What I’m trying to say is I’m sorry for not giving you your due. Or respecting you. Or whatever, I’ve been really busy managing all these operations. Either way, you won’t be punished for anything you did back in Nuremberg. Or any other dubious activities you’ve done lately. We need people like you who honestly want to make the world better, no matter what bad you’ve done. No one’s entirely free of sin, I guess. As long as we work past them.”

“Merci Jack,” Ameile let out, breathing a sigh of relief. She may not have gotten everything she expected from this apology, mainly for every single instance he was wrong about her, but some respect from her superior was a start.

“Now you best get packing,” Jack ordered. “We leave for Mexico tomorrow, and we need you on the front lines. And take a shower, you smell pretty bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, we say goodbye to Siegfried Paulis, possibly the most unlikeable Overwatch OC yet.
> 
> Soundtrack: 
> 
> Flesh Without Blood - Grimes  
> So Alive - Love and Rockets  
> Sweet Miracle - Rush


	11. Salva Mea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Overwatch team heads to Mexico City to find Sombra, and Ameile hopes to finally put and end to her madness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far the longest chapter of the story (and the single longest piece of fic I've ever written. coming a bit of a habit with my climaxes here)
> 
> There are derogatory lesbian insults, love triangles, and major fighting up ahead.

The Overwatch team heading to Mexico City was quite massive, made up of five airships carrying of an assortment of Overwatch veterans, new recruits human and Omnic, and one ship dedicated to just equipment and vehicles. A mission in a place as massive as Mexico City needed a large force. Especially when dealing with a wanted menace like Sombra.

They set up base in the nearby, more sparsely populated, but not by much, area of Texcoco. A set of hostels was rented out for their time there, with one the operation leaders rooming in having a room in the lobby for breakfast, but not much else. Jack said the places they got were discounted, for the owners were grateful Overwatch was in town taking care of Sombra, saying she was given Mexico a bad reputation.

Ameile shared a room with five other women. Lena, Fareeha, Angela, Satya, and Aleksandra. Despite how wide it appeared to be, in reality there would be little space once all the bags were settled. It consisted of three sets of bunkbeds, one window, some space under the beds for storage, and one bathroom for everyone to use. 

“Alright, who wants to make bets on who’ll catch Sombra?” Aleksandra offered. “I’ll start things off since she’ll still wanted in Russia for what she did to Katya Volskaya.”

“I would enjoy taking her down,” Satya claimed from her top bunk, working on plans on a tablet of a new device that gives shields over a wide area. “I’ll never forget the time she blackmailed Vishkar into working with her.”

“What about me?” Lena chimed in from her perch on one of the top bunks. “Overwatch’s poster girl should get the bad guy, right? It’s only fitting.”

“Fools, Sombra’s mine,” Ameile threatened while lounging on her claimed bed, a lower bunk underneath Lena. “You have no idea the amount of operations we worked on together, including that ‘blotched’ Volskaya operation. And in nearly every one, she was up to one of her own schemes.”

“That reminds me Lacroix,” Aleskandra interrupted. “We still need to settle my score.”

“I keep telling you, Zarya. I didn’t harm Katya!”

“Volskaya Industries security footage says otherwise.”

“I just grazed her ear. You have Sombra to thank for that.”

“Hey Ameile,” Fareeha asked, mainly to catch up with any details she missed. “So where did you kill those people with Siegfried?”

“There was one in Paris I kind of helped. Then Cologne, Montreal, and Glasgow with Lena.”

“Montreal? Who was there?”

“The woman who figured out I was Gerard’s wife. I killed her with poison.”

“Did you get poutine when you were there?”

Ameile was confused by her sudden enthusiasm. “I . . did? But the dish disgusted Siegfried. I’ve had it before in Vancouver.”

“Vancouver? When was that?”

“When I still did ballet,” Ameile wasn’t sure why Fareeha wanted to know all this. Or why she kept going on. “You seem excited over one detail.”

“Sorry, my dad’s First Nation’s Canadian. So when someone brings it up Canada, I just have to know what exactly people are talking about.”

“Huh. I would’ve thought Reinhardt was your dad.”

“You’re not the first to make that mistake.”

 

Ameile was on a hilltop, immediately baking in the sunlight. She was surrounded by parched shrubs and sedimentary rocks and pebbles. Much too warm to be a Mexican winter, she thought. Or maybe it’s a freak occurrence, she’d only heard about Mexico from Gabe and Sombra.

Ameile spotted the bowl-shaped valley below, which she recognized as where Mexico City was situated. Except the city wasn’t there. Just a combination of shurbs, deserts, and lakes.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the familiar threatening voice said. 

Ameile turned to find Widowmaker sitting on a rock, her left leg bent up to make herself comfortable in the limited space she had.

“This is the land Mexico City was before it became such a sprawling place. In its more simple, less complicated state.” the sniper said before acknowledging Ameile. “Don’t worry. I won’t torture you now. That’ll come later.”

“It’s quite hot up here,” Ameile remarked. “If you stay out here any longer, your body may heat up and become normal.”

“Neither heat nor cold can disrupt, my physiology. As you well know.”

“It was worth a try. If you’re not going to torture me, what is all this for?” 

“I’m aware of what your plans in the real world. How Overwatch is going to storm Sombra’s base and try to take her alive. Meanwhile, you and her want each other dead. Well, she wants you dead in a different sense. And that’s when I’ll be free again.”

“Siegfried said you’re a failsafe. Talon implanted you in my head in case the conditioning broke. Is that true?”

“Yes. Talon left me behind. Not just anyone, that Lukas Hase man you killed. Something that can’t be physically detected, seen only by you, and designed to show you the light.”

“What light? Playing mindgames and haunting my subconscious is supposed to lead me to a better path?”

“The path of seeing the world we live in torn down and rebuilt. One without your precious Overwatch.”

“Like I haven’t heard that before. There’s just one problem. You’re still here, in my head. Even back in Germany, that was something only I could see and hear. I must still have some control here, no matter what you do. I’m the one who ultimately has to let you win, which I’ll never do.”

“Then I suppose you do need more help to finally give in.”

Ameile knew what that meant. Something to do with Sombra finishing the job herself. This Widowmaker would gladly run off to be with Sombra, keeping whatever spirit was left of Talon alive.

“You have your allies, I have mine. All I can say now is that with all your friends gathered in one spot going up against an enemy, people are going to get hurt. Either by our hands or unintentionally. Tracer, among them of course.”

“Leave her out of this!”

“Never. And whom are the others helping you out? Like that Japanese archer?”

“Hanzo Shimada. You met him before.”

“Oh that’s right, I have. I’ve been so focused on Tracer, didn’t think about other people that could help. Damn carpet muncher.”

Ameile felt personally hurt by that insult. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” Widowmaker gave a stern look devoid of humanity. “Same goes for you.”

Too blinded, Ameile charged at the blue woman, tackled her off her rock-perch, and landed in the shrubs beside them. Widowmaker didn’t put up a fight; she just let Ameile straddle her, punching her face a few times. Enough to draw blood.

“You do not insult my friends like that!” Ameile shouted with enough echo to reverberate throughout the valley. “Especially Lena! She’s why I didn’t give up on life. She’s lead me to such new, wonderful things I never thought I could experience again. She’s,” Ameile started to tear up, realizing what she was about to say, “she’s wonderful in every way. And I love her.”

Widowmaker gave off a low laugh from her blue-blood covered mouth. Her yellow eyes portrayed nothing but contempt. “By the time the day is over, I swear you this. Your lovely Tracer will disappear and only one of us will remain in this body of yours. And when I win, I’m going with Sombra. Ameile Lacroix will be dead forever. Qu'avez-vous à dire, cherie?” (What do you have to say to that)

Ameile shot up, her head just missing the bed above her. She was sweating either from her dream or from the lack of appropriate air-conditioning, feeling the need to air her shirt out. She had seen Widowmaker out in the real world before, something infinitely more terrifying than in her dreams. Why did this one shake her particularly so?

“Hey Ameile,” Fareeha whispered, resting in the lower bunk next to Ameile’s underneath Angela. “Having trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, more Widowmaker nightmares.” 

“Are they pretty bad? You were tossing and turning enough to wake me up.”

“Oui,” she didn’t want to go on further. 

“Hold on,” Fareeha dug through one of her bags underneath her bed and pulled out an iPod with earbuds, making sure to set what song to play beforehand, before handing it to Ameile. “I got something that might help. Just press play.”

Ameile did and let the music play. Weirdly enough, it was a song she heard before not too long ago once the open instrumental got out of the way. 

“Pack up all those phantoms, shoulder that invisible load. Keep on riding North and West. Haunting that wilderness road, like a ghost rider.”

“I’ve heard this before,” Ameile remarked. “Some man with a guitar played it in front of the Montreal cathedral.”

“Street performer’s got good taste then.” 

Ameile looked at the iPod for information about it. Ghost Rider by Rush. Album: Vapor Trails. 

“What’s Rush?” Ameile asked.

“They’re a real famous Canadian band. I’m not as into them as my dad, but they got some good stuff.”

Ameile continued to listen on, reaching verses she must’ve missed out on before. 

“Just an escape artist, racing against the night. A wandering hermit, racing towards the light.”

“I think I like it,” Ameile told Fareeha. 

“I’m glad you do. To be honest,” Fareeha briefly paused. “This is something that helped after Ami’s funeral.”

“Ami?”

“It’s Arabic for mother.”

“Oh,” Ameile realized. The first time these two met, when Overwatch captured Widowmaker at Ana’s behest, Fareeha forewent an interrogation session in favor of punching her several times. Somewhat deserved. And in the time since, they hardly were put on missions together, but it meant a great deal Fareeha shared this with the woman who sniped her mother.

“Just listen to the whole album,” Fareeha insisted. Some parts might be a bit heavy for your taste, but I think it’ll help for what you’re going through.”

Continuing to listen to the song, Ameile backed out to browse the other song titles. One Little Victory, How it is, Secret Touch, Earthshine, Nocturne. At first she wasn’t sure how these other songs would help, but she found one who’s title jumped out at her.

Freeze (Part IV of Fear).

 

Ameile finally drifted of to sleep after listening to the rest of Fareeha’s music, though it wasn’t particularly easier. The tossing and turning continued, not necessarily because Widowmaker returned to her dreams, but at the thoughts of having it happen again. Her mind drifted to what she said. How she was gonna make off with Sombra, how the woman known as Ameile would be dead forever this time.

How Lena would disappear.

Eventually, Ameile gave up. She got out of her bed and walked over to the room’s alarm clock. 5 am, it read. The sky was still pitch black outside the window aside from streetlights and people driving. Today was doing to be a big day no matter what happened, but this early, Ameile needed somewhere to get away from her friends.

There was a place she had in mind to go. The Mexico City Cathedral. It would be perfect to gather her thoughts. And hardly anyone would be there, at least she assumed.

Ameile forwent taking a shower, just changing out of her pajamas into a grey top, lavender shorts, a light coat, and a pistol in a holster, just in case. She made sure not to make enough noise to wake anyone else up, dressing slowly and leaving the room slowly. The hostel was located next to a subway station, with a line heading downtown going through it. 

The train ran above ground next to a highway, passing by a great number of lakes and reservoirs before going underground when it reached the greater city limits. Not that it made much difference, seeing as how the sky was still black. The dimly lit subway was sparsely occupied, giving Ameile enough personal space to think. Where to change trains, what to do when she arrived, would the place even be open. 

These thoughts concerned her more than other, minor ones as she changed trains at San Lazaro station. Many more people were crowding the platforms and hallways, people of all walks of life, Ameile saw. Even in the early morning, guitarists and violinists set up shop in the hallways, a few beggars asking for spare pesos. Ameile didn’t pay attention to what they had to say, more focused on finding her connecting train. 

Upon riding the next one, Ameile recalled some of the many times Sombra told her the state of Mexico after the first Crisis. How the infrastructure collapsed completely. Rolling blackouts were more commonplace in cities like Guadalajara, Monterrey, Tijuana, and even Mexico City itself. Smaller villages, like Dorado, suddenly became more swamped in gang violence normally seen in the cities. Suddenly everyone had the same problems. Then Lumerico, a government owned company, did what Overwatch couldn’t do, created a stable power grid throughout the whole country, their president, Guillermo Poreto, declared a national hero. But Sombra never trusted him, calling the leader a corrupt thief. She single-handedly took down Lumerico security and leaked classified documents as part of her belief in his wrongdoings.

As the train reached Zocalo station, Ameile pondered why Sombra would set up her base here. Because it’s home, possibly, nowhere else to go, no one else to trust. And wondered if someone else like her could emerge from something Overwatch overlooked. 

Ameile walked up out of the station finding herself in a large plaza, the sky starting to turn navy and the streetlights still on. To her right was an imposing three-story building, possibly government offices she thought. But across the street was what she was looking for. An ancient, crumbling stone cathedral decorated with white ornamentations of religious figures and the Mexican flag. From the sheer size of the church, it must’ve taken up the entire city block. Quickly, Ameile jaywalked across the street, hoping to avoid getting hit by any reckless drivers, to make her way inside. 

The first thing Ameile saw after walking through the giant wooden doors was a golden altar with gold leaf iconography behind it. What puzzled her about was the small amount of pews there. She saw several other separate worship spaces underneath arches lining a long hallway, with separate altars inside them too, but it was all Christian. She couldn’t find any other religious iconography there, unlike the other cathedrals she’s visited. 

After walking down the main hallway, she found what appeared to be a suitable worship space she was used to. One with a long center aisle, lined with a metal fence and some small statues. As far as she could tell, there weren’t any designated spaces for the Iris, so she sat in one pew behind a massive pillar, looking down to the ground as she collected her thoughts. 

We will catch Sombra, Ameile thought. We will bring her in and this nightmare will end. No one else in Overwatch worked with her more than me. I know all her tricks. Her hacking, her invisibility, her translocating. Nothing can surprise me. And we have so many troops. The sheer number can overwhelm whatever she has mustered.

But what about Widowmaker? What if Sombra has something specifically prepared for me? To finish the job? Can I get this out of my head? What if, 

What if she succeeds?

“¿Por qué tan triste, amiga?” (Why so sad, friend?) a voice called out. It was from next to Ameile in the pew. But no one was there.

The air to her right started to glitch purple, with faint lights forming. The lights turned into the shape of a slim human body. Sombra always had a way of making grand entrances. 

But Ameile could tell immediately this is not the same Sombra she used to work with. She was wearing a black hoodie, something she rarely did, even in the considerable Mexican heat. And she thought she saw a braid of vellow hair make it’s way out on the side of her head.

“Sombra, how’d you know I was here?”

“A nice place to come and reflect, is it not? Right across from the national palace, next to some Aztec ruins. It is, however, strictly Catholic. No Omnic worship spaces here. Did you know this cathedral was built on the remains on the great pyramid of Tenochtitlan?”

Ameile reached for her pistol, wanting to end this now.

“Don’t think about drawing that,” Sombra pointed out. “This is supposed to be a sacred place. Plus, I have backup.”

Ameile looked next to her at the cathedral’s side entrance. Some goons were guarding the doors. And with the dim lighting, painted images of skulls started to appear on their faces, with bones showing up on their arms and legs.

“I’ve invited some old friends. Now, if I may continue. The Aztec priests would perform human sacrifices on top of the pyramid to appease the gods. That is, before Cortez and the Spanish came and obliterated the Aztecs.”

“So what, I’m some sacrifice to you now?”

“So be it if Widowmaker is to come back.”

“Why would you want Widowmaker back? There’s no way I’ll go willingly.”

“You weren’t willing the first time either.”

Ameile had in good mind to try again and take Sombra down right now. Spare the whole possibly devastating attack on the compound. She was more than a match for her in various physical training sessions back at Talon. She trust relied on her implants to get the upper hand. 

“Come on amiga, don’t you trust your old friend?” 

Like Sombra told her, this was a sacred place. Even with Jack’s forgiveness, Ameile figured she was still on thin ice. 

“Okay,” Ameile relented. “Talk. Why do you want Widowmaker back?” 

“Talon was a fine outlet for my activities. Hacking Omnics, blackmailing corporations and leaders around the world, certainly better with them than in a basement in Dorado. But even Talon had it limits. An agenda I constantly had to follow. With its downfall, you no doubt know about the hacking I’ve done since then. Recruiting new talent. Caused more chaos like Talon used to do.

But there was something missing. What made my time in Talon truly worthwhile. You and Gabe, my closest friends.”

“We were never friends,” Ameile rebutted. “We got put together on missions and I had to deal with your nonsense. You’re lucky I didn’t rat you out for the Volskaya job.”

“That hurts. Tell me, who were your friends at Talon?”

“I didn’t have any. Hard to make them when you don’t have emotions.”

“I beg to differ. Didn’t you spend most your time with me and Gabe?”

Ameile didn’t want to admit it, but Sombra was right. She did spend most of her off time with them after they joined, mainly because they were put together on missions frequently. Even if she found the hacker annoying. And at least recalled who Gabe was before he became Reaper.

“Oh, the three of us would’ve taken the world together. That’s what Gabe would’ve lead us to when he dispatched those useless Talon heads. But if you didn’t defect,”

“I didn’t defect, I was saved!”

“Keep telling yourself that. With him dead, and you being difficult, it falls on me to fight on, to stop Overwatch and take down the world order. But with Widowmaker back on my side, it’ll be the definitive statement that Talon is back. After we defeat your forces of course.”

Ameile smirked at the thought. A rogue terrorist with dwindling forces thinking she had a chance against the might of Overwatch. “You won’t stand a chance.” 

“My eyes and ears tell me everything I need to know. I know that you and a large Overwatch party are going to raid my base this evening. That my forces will be significantly outnumbered. I know your party includes at least the two Shimadas, Aleksandra Zaryanova, and Satya Vaswani. Some people who really have it out for me. I know about how this predicament is unpleasant for you.”

“Unpleasant?” Ameile galled at how lightly Sombra put it. “I’ve had nightmares where Widowmaker tortures me and kills those I care about. I’ve seen her in the real world when she shouldn’t be there.”

“So it is working. The failsafe.”

There it was again. Someone saying a failsafe existed in her head. But from the horse’s mouth this time. “You know too?”

“I know exactly how to bring you back to me now. And it involves that and a lot of pain. To backtrack for a moment, what is it you said about those you care about? Does Lena Oxton count?”

Ameile just stared at the hood. She didn’t, she couldn’t know, did she?

“Oh, Siegfried told me all about Tracer’s feelings for you. Was I missing something between the times her and Widowmaker fought?”

“Lena helped save me, and fights by my side often,” Ameile tried satisfying Sombra’s question. “And nothing more.”

“But these nightmares. Tracer was in them?”

There was no use in lying.

“Yes she was.”

“So, you do like her too,” Sombra jumped her reasoning. “That’ll make tonight interesting.”

“Don’t you dare,” Ameile tried to lunge over, but Sombra’s metal-covered, pink lined right hand raised itself to her face, stopping her from moving midair. Sombra could never do this before

“Tracer is part of your team, correct?”

Ameile nodded, feeling that didn’t dignify a verbal response. 

“Excellente,” Sombra lowered her hand, freeing Ameile of her invisible grip. 

“I swear if you harm her in any way,” 

“Tracer can easily dodge whatever we throw at her. I wouldn’t worry too much about what happens. More about what’ll happen to you and your beloved Overwatch.”

Ameile could feel another speech coming on. One she’s mostly likely heard part of before.

“When the Omnics destroyed Mexico during the first crisis, corrupt men came into power to try and piece together the ruins. Companies like Lumerico, people like Guillermo Portero, they didn’t care about what the common Mexican. Only for themselves. I scrapped by on meager leftovers in alleys. I built my first computer system out of garbage. And learned how corrupt the world is that way. How you have to bribe, take names, make threats, and get a little violent to get what you want. Through my youth, Los Muertos, Talon, and now my own resurgent-Talon, I’ve survived whatever’s been thrown at me because of my wit and intellect. But also because I knew when to get out when it was getting bad.

I won’t be running away this time. Let Overwatch come and attack me. My followers and I are more than prepared. And when we’re finished with you, we’ll take down the Mexican government the same way I took down Lumerico. Soon, the world’s governments will fall one by one, ending with your petty little United Nations and Overwatch to fall to the ground last. The human race will be free of oppressive men who don’t bow to the needs of the people. We’ll make the world as we see fit once you’re back by my side. We’ll gladly take down whoever disagrees down a few pegs.”

“Even with all the hacking power you’ve built inside yourself, you can’t hope to achieve anything besides sneaking in somewhere. Besides, you sound just like those you’re fighting against. Freeing the world of those who oppress is our job.”

“Oh, you underestimate me.” 

Sombra finally turned her head to face Ameile. Sure enough, her hair was dyed blonde, same with her eyebrows but her eyes shone a pristine blood red. Pink lines ran underneath her eyes to her cheeks. And she wore what looked like a metal guard for her chin running up to her ears.

“Like what you see?” Sombra said in a most threatening voice.

Ameile should’ve ran. Gotten out of the pew and came back the way she came. Her eyes were horrifying and the pink lines burst with energy. It was too mesmerizing to look away.

“What, what did you do?”

“Some upgrades to wear for the occasion. You might as well do the same. That Overwatch uniform I saw you wearing before is so bland.”

With a snap of her fingers, Sombra’s goons opened up the cathedral doors

“You’ll find me in the mountains south of the city. A place called Ajusco. Adios amiga, te veo esta noche,” (see you tonight) Sombra invited, making a gesture with her right hand that rendered her invisible. The goons walked outside, with the small glass doors taking a bit longer to close than normal. Accommodating some invisible force leaving the premises.

Ameile stared at the door until it fully closed all the way. Then she nearly fell onto the pew in front of her, breathing heavily in disbelief. Sombra. Right there next to her. Trying to strike up a conversation as if they were still in Talon. She knows. She’s prepared. 

This won’t be easy, Ameile kept repeating as she got out of the pew and walked out the same set of doors Sombra did into the rising, blistering Mexican sun.

 

Ameile walked back into the hostel as the sky finally turned into its daytime shade of light blue. She had been out a few hours, long enough for teammates to wake up and start to get breakfast in the lobby. Ameile didn’t get any food, just sitting down at a long table with most of her friends, next to Lena.

“Ameile, where’ve you been?” Lena asked, offering some of her unfinished omelet. “You were gone when we woke up.”

“I, I,” Ameile stammered, refusing the food. “I just needed some time to think.”

“What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ameile couldn’t speak. She herself still couldn’t believe it.

“What is it?”

“Sombra. I saw her downtown right in the open.”

“You did?” Lena looked just as shocked as Ameile was. “Hey Jack,” she shouted down the table, “Ameile found Sombra!”

Jack, sitting at the end of the table between Ana and Angela, heard the message and made his way down to the sitting Frenchwoman, still shaken, but eager to tell.

“Where?” he started off. 

“In the cathedral I went to. She knew I would show up there.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. We just talked.”

“You didn’t try to catch her?”

“I couldn’t. She had some people with face paint following her.”

“Face paint? What of?”

“Skulls. And bones were painted on their legs.”

“Damn,” Jack realized. “That’s Los Muertos. Didn’t think we’d have to deal with them again.”

“She’s overconfident, Jack. She told me what she’s going to do if she wins and her location.”

“Where is she then?”

“Ajusco, I think. It was south of the main city. And her plans,”

“She’s not gonna have any when we’re done with her,” Jack interrupted. “Good work, Ameile,” he said before leaving, presumably to try and follow up the location.

Genji and Hanzo only saw some of the exchange, sitting down at an open spot across from Ameile and Lena with their food.

“What was that all about?” Genji asked, removing his visor to eat his omelet.

“Ameile saw Sombra when she was out this morning,” Lena got in.

“We heard that,” Hanzo stroked a fork through his dish. “But what was her plan?”

“She wants to take everything down,” Ameile stated. “Governments, the U.N., Overwatch, anything she thinks is corrupt will fall. And she wants Widowmaker by her side to look over everything. We all stand to lose something if she wins.”

“Then we won’t let her win then,” Lena reassured her. “We got the numbers, the firepower, pretty much everything you need to win a fight.”

Ameile couldn’t shake how Sombra looked. Those red eyes, the glowing pink lining her face, she wasn’t the same. She’d gone down to some dark places in her quest. Places she wanted to drag Ameile back down to.

Not if she didn’t meet her up to the challenge.

“Lena, Hanzo,” Ameile ordered. “When I’m dressed, come with me. We’re going shopping.”

“Shopping?” they both asked.

“Sombra wants me to wear something different for the raid tonight. I’m taking her up on that offer.”

 

“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” Lena asked from the backseat of a jeep, passing through clogged Mexico City streets.

“I saw a place in a district called Los Reyes,” Ameile replied from the driver’s seat, with Hanzo in the passenger’s side. “Seems too good to pass up.”

Both Lena and Hanzo shot her a confused look. Ameile briefly turned to look at them, wondering why it got so silent.

“Quoi?” Ameile asked, concerned.

“Los Reyes? Really?” Lena bit first.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Hanzo followed. 

“Why not? If Lena can run around in orange tight pants and you expose your chest for all to see, why can’t I have something with more pizazz?”

“I thought that’s what your old uniform was for.”

“I’m not gonna fight in spandex with my tits hanging out!” she yelled, making a hard left turn.

“Ameile, if I may say something,” Hanzo offered. “What if this is what she wants?”

“What do you mean? She has no say in what I can wear.”

“But it’s something to disassociate you from your identity with Overwatch. And maybe, if you two are fighting each other alone, that may be an advantage on her side.”

“Yeah, I’m with him,” Lena agreed. “And what if your Widowmaker things start acting up?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem with all you looking over me. Besides, I could use something more elegant. Something about the callsign ‘Huntress’ screams for more than an ordinary uniform.”

Ameile turned off of Aztecas Ave. onto a back street she thought the place was. Among the mixture of crumbling highrises and new developments, there was a dumpy-looking costume shop simply called Tienda de Distraces. A parking spot opened itself up in front of the store.

“Uh, how’d you find out about this place?” Lena asked when everyone got out. 

“Just looked up some costume stores online,” Ameile replied, making her way to the front door. “There’s supposed to be elegant stuff in here.”

The door opened with a little bell ringing, telling the old Mexican cashier three people had arrived. She acknowledged their presence, the only other people in the store, but spent her time reading a book instead. The inside looked kind of dusty, with no other lights coming in other than the window. The three split up trying to find something usable, though Hanzo spent most of his time in the men’s section, admiring the mariachi and plague doctor outfits hanging on the racks.

Ameile found most of the women’s section had dresses either for traditional Mexican celebrations or masquerade parties. These were very ornate and came with the masks. Too much a burden, she thought. Then there were some ballerina tutu’s she considered. One was bright white, the other a combination of black and dark green, with matching stockings for both. Too on the noise, she decided.

Finally, Ameile found an outfit that caught her eye, on one of the displays. A suit not too dissimilar from the Comtesse outfit she wore for the Overwatch costume party. The jacket and pants were black, with gold accents along the buttons, silver lining the collar, and a red interior for the coat. The boots had red flaps coming down from where they meet the legs. The vest was red with grey buttons, with a black tie and white shirt underneath. And the gloves were the same shade of black.

This is perfect, she thought.

“Excuse me,” Ameile tried getting the woman behind the cash register’s attention. “This suit, is it in my size?”

The cashier made a gesture towards her ear, indicating she didn’t understand.

“No English?” Ameile tried again. The cashier just shook her head.

The Frenchwoman went back into her mind thinking about what Spanish she knew. Hanging out with Gabriel and Sombra all those years left some common Spanish words and phrases in her head. Along with learning certain words when conducting Widowmaker missions in this part of the world. It wasn’t too different from French, right? Like how she stunned Lucio with her Portuguese?

“Este traje, ¿mi medida?” (This suit, my size?) Ameile tried, notably rusty, her French accent butchering some of the pronunciations. 

“Déjame ver,” (Let me see) the cashier got up and, with the help of a stepladder, pulled the outfit down from the rack. She held up the various articles against Ameile’s body, stretching some out to make sure the waist and bust sizes were appropriate.

“Oh, esto deberia caberte bien,” (this should fit you nice) she complimented.

“Um, gracias,” Ameile replied.

“Quieres probarlo, el vestuario está ahí atrás,” (You want to try it on, changing room is back there) the cashier pointed towards the back of the store. Ameile didn’t get everything she said, but saw a sign indicating where the changing room was. She nodded her head in agreement and went back to the changing room.

Finding the one spot she could change, Ameile removed her top and shorts to put on the suit one piece at a time. First the white undershirt and tie, at least she remembered how to tie ties from doing it so many times on Gerard, then the vest, pants, jacket and boots.

There was one mirror in the changing room, and Ameile wanted to look at herself from all angles. The suit fitted amazingly to her body. The tie didn’t choke her neck too much. The jacket didn’t cramp her shoulders, and the pants accentuated her curves just the way she wanted. The boots may have taken a while to get on, but she had long legs to deal with already, so it was manageable. 

I love it, Ameile muttered to herself.

Meanwhile, Lena and Hanzo continued to pace around the store, looking at the strange things being sold inside. Hanzo found a jester outfit that came with a giant bell around the neck and one that appeared to be for a Sikh man, and was confused as to who would wear such things. Lena came across some clothes for goths and “D.va-approved” Bee and Junebug outfits. She wondered what Hana would think finding these here.

“Lena,” Hanzo shouted as he made his way over through the women’s section.

“Yeah Hanzo?” Lena replied.

“Ameile told me about you and Genji?”

“What about it?” Lena said unsure, then remembered. “Oh, that was just one time years ago. We’re just friends now.”

“That’s beside the point. You’re her best friend right? You tell each other about everything?”

“Or close to that, I suppose.”

“Does she say anything about me at all?” the archer got out, with a hint of nervousness.

“What makes you say that?”

“I mean, the first time I met her was as Widowmaker, of course. And even then I sensed there was someone in there trying to break free. And now that she has, and that I’m working with her again, I keep feeling myself drawn to her.”

Lena didn’t like where this was going.

“In Germany,” Hanzo continued, “we meditated and shared our pasts, realizing we had a lot more in common than we thought. And I imagine you know how I came to her aid.”

“I do,” Lena said sternly.

“Long story short, I haven’t felt this way around a woman in a long time. It feels good. I even asked her if she wanted to visit Hanamura at some point, though she didn’t give me a definitive answer.” 

“So,” Lena broke in once Hanzo was finished, not wanting to deal with new competition. “You really like her, huh?”

“I suppose I do.”

“You know she’s going through some rough stuff right? And that now may not be the best time to ask a fragile woman out?”

“I know. I can wait until after these missions is over.”

Lena remembered Hanzo was on the list of people who didn’t know about what her and Ameile did. And his obliviousness at this point told her Ameile still didn’t tell him. She wondered how far she could push the Japanese man before he could take a hint.

“What about your family business back in Japan? Don’t you have to run that too? It’s probably no place for an Overwatch agent to be involved in.”

“I still don’t know what I want to do with it. And Ameile asked if I considered joining Overwatch full-time. It’s definitely something I put some thought into lately.”

“Oh really?” Lena sounded perturbed. “Wouldn’t they be angry at you for abandoning them?”

“I’ve been exiled from the clan once before. They would have no issue with me leaving again. As to your claim about Overwatch being involved with my affairs, need I remind you how Genji himself lead some operations against the clan?”

“Well,” Lena stumbled to try and find a new avenue. “What else do you know about her life?”

“Her life? I know she was married to an Overwatch agent, whom she killed, but not much else.”

“Oh, what a shame. How can you make someone feel special if you don’t know enough about them?”

“So can you help me then?”

“What for?”

“Tell me something I can use. Anything that’ll make her feel special.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Lena got defensive.

“I won’t hurt her, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“No, I doubt you actually would. But she’s, kind of,”

Ameile surprised her two companions by walking into their conversation and tapping them on the shoulders, getting them to face her.

“What do you two think?” Ameile asked, twirling around a few times to give a whole view.

Both of them were speechless, stunned at how well the suit fitted her as much as she did. That gave Ameile all the further motivation she needed.

“I’ll take it!”

 

Ameile admired the outfit again in the hostel room’s bathroom mirror. She’d only loved it more the more she looked at it. Definitely sharp on it’s own, and based on Lena’s and Hanzo’s reactions, it could practically make anyone fall head over heels. Hopefully it wouldn’t clash with the rest of her equipment. Her visor was a dark enough shade of blue to not be out of place. But the yellow on her rifle might look odd.

The Frenchwoman also figured she doe something different with her hair too, besides the standard ponytail it was in now. She pulled some strands of hair from her do and let them hang where her sideburns would usually be. Yes, this’ll do nicely, she thought. 

Ameile walked out of the bathroom to show the other women, all dressed in their proper mission attire, mock posing as if she were a model. 

“Exquisite,” Satya had to say, while in the middle of a call with Jamie.

“Not bad, not bad at all,” Aleksandra admired.

“That’s, definitely something,” Fareeha noted, finding it bizarre wearing something appearing so formal into battle.

“What made you pick that one?” Angela asked.

“The name Huntress screams for something elegant, but sharp,” Ameile explained. “And this style is pleasing to everyone looking on, I take it? A woman in a suit?”

“I thought it was cause you like everyone staring at you,” Lena got in.

There was a knock on the door, to which Angela responded. Jack barged in once the door was open, rounding everyone up to get on their way.

“Alright ladies, get ready to move out. We’re all about to meet downstairs and I don’t you forgetting,” Jack stopped once he saw Ameile was clearly not wearing her Overwatch uniform.

“What in God’s name are you wearing, Lacroix?”

“Something new,” Ameile continued to show it off. “Don’t you like it?”

“It looks ridiculous. What’s wrong with your regular uniform?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it. I just wanted something different.”

“Aren’t you gonna be warm in that? It’s 65 degrees out.”

“What’s wrong with feeling the heat?”

“You don’t have time to change, do you?”

“Jack, I want to wear this.”

“Fine. Let’s just head downstairs and get going.”

A large convoy of jeeps and heavy transports was gathered outside the hostel, partly full from picking up other troops at the other lodging. It took about 20 minutes for everyone to get fully situated and comfortable, mainly for the armor-clad troops to embark on their transport. Once everyone was on board, the convoy made its way south, taking backroads around the central Mexico City limits.

Ameile sat in the back of one of the leading jeeps with Lena, Fareeha, Ana, Hanzo, Genji, Angela, Zenyatta, Satya, and Aleksandra. Jack, Reinhardt, and Winston were with their respective units; Jack’s leading the way. After the early sunset, the only usable light came from an overhead light inside and other jeep’s headlights.

“Ameile, did you listen to the whole album?” Fareeha wanted to know.

“I did. You weren’t lying about how heavy it was.

“Did you have a favorite song?”

“Freeze, I think it was called?”

“Oh, that’s a good one.”

“What’re you talking about, Fareeha?” Ana butted in.

“Just showing Ameile some of dad’s music.”

“Never liked that stuff anyway.”

“Hey Angela,” Ameile called out, pulling out her bottle of pills out of a jacket pocket, rattling it. “I need a refill on these.”

“How many are left?” Angela asked out of concern.

Ameile twisted the cap off, poured out the last two pills, and put them in her mouth, swallowing with ease. “None.”

“You were only supposed to take one of those.”

“Special circumstances?”

“There are no special circumstances. You better hope you maintain your bearings out there.”

“You had a long talk with the junker,” Aleksandra started a concurrent conversation with Satya.

“Yes, Jamie’s sad to miss out. He would’ve loved trying to break into a place like this. And blow up any dangers.”

“I still don’t get why you’re dating that ruffian.”

“And your relationship with Mei still has me perplexed.”

“What for?”

“What does a bodybuilder want with a scientist?”

“What does an architech want with a junker?”

Satya let the silence hang over them for a few seconds. “Touché.”

“Team,” Jack’s voice came up over the speakers. “We’re approaching our destination. Stay frosty.”

“Any words of wisdom you wish to share, master?” Genji wondered.

“Just stay focused on our objectives,” Zenyatta offered everyone. “Clear your minds of anything else. We can stop a great menace tonight, only if you don’t lose yourselves.”

The convoy came to a rest at the town limits of San Miguel Ajusco, just as the brush against the side of the Ajusco mountain started to get dense. Everyone disembarked from their transport and started ascending the hillside. The dirt paths were far too narrow for more than two at a time, so some eager troops marched through the brushes and shrubs, a particularly hard task for Reinhardt and his armor-bound unit. 

Ameile kept a steady pace with everyone else making her way up. She wanted to turn her visor on so she could at least not take any wrong steps or run into something, but she needed to save it for later. Following this trail of soldiers up the mountain would work fine enough. Plus, it at least gave her time to think about what Zenyatta said. We can all end this. She could finally lay her demons down. Don’t lose yourself. 

But what if she did? 

“We got a target up ahead,” Jack spoke on everyone’s earpieces.

On the east side of the mountain where the treeline finally stopped, a large building jutted out of the slope. It appeared three stories high from where they were, but no doubt more space was hidden out of sight, either underground or buried into the mountain. There were lights coming from inside, expecting someone to come by.

I suppose this is it, Ameile thought.

“Sombra, we know you’re in there,” Jack called out on his megaphone, as the teams gathered a few hundred feet away from the building. “Surrender peacefully and no harm will come to you or whoever else is inside.”

No response came. Only giving the various units time to form up.

“Maybe Sombra gave Ameile the wrong place?” Angela suggested.

“No she’s in there. She has to be,” Jack determinedly stated. “Sombra, we can only give so many warnings before,”

“Look,” Angela pointed at the building. 

One of the windows on the top floor opened up, with a man sporting a bright green neon skull on his head emerging. Clearly visible to the force below. 

“Sombra dice que personalmente te veremos al infierno,” (Sombra says we’ll personally see you to hell) he shouted, immediately ducking back inside and closed the window.

“What did he say?” Angela asked.

“It’s a challenge,” Jack replied, understanding what the man said perfectly. “Christ, Los Muertos is involved.” 

“Does that mean anything?”

“They’re the gang she used to run with before joining Talon. I have experience with them. Everyone gather up!”

As all the soldiers gathered around, Jack outlined his plans for attack. The basic raid, surround the perimeter, only shoot to kill if necessary, get Sombra alive at all costs. Everyone understood and gave a ooh-wah.

“Oxton, you’re up!”

“On it Commander,” Lena replied. She blinked up a few times to the set of doors facing everyone. Digging around inside her bomber jacket, she pulled out a disc emitting a blue light similar to the accelerator. She fastened it to the door and turned on a built-in timer, counting down from thirty seconds. Plenty of time to blink back down to the rest of the force.

“Pulse bomb ready!” Lena proclaimed, giving a thumbs up.

“Alright team, move up,” Jack ordered, with all the troops. They hurried up through the brushes to reach the base before the bomb went off.

“Everyone, get ready,” Jack had them stand a considerable distance away, waiting for the ticker to go off.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0. 

The pulse bomb exploded with a burst of blue light and crackling energy, with enough force to blow the doors off their hinges and take enough brick and cement with them to make a decent-sized hole. But it’s too small for a fair amount to get through at once.

And the Los Muertos members knew this.

The first batch of Overwatch troops heading inside were pelted by bullets from the upper levels. Though it was remedied once Fareeha started launching her Raptora suit’s rockets through the windows. Genji and Hanzo took to climbing up the front wall, breaking through a window to further deal with the pests upstairs. Satya stayed outside to bring her shield generator online, providing more protection for the regiments. 

Meanwhile, everyone else was doing their parts. Reinhardt and his legion provided adequate shield cover. Jack, with some help from Ana, coordinated who went where from the backlines as Zenyatta and Angela took care of any wounded men.

Ameile, Lena, Winston and Aleksandra led the charge on the ground once more Overwatch soliders managed to get inside, but were quickly split up amidst the emerging mobs of both Los Muertos members and Sombra’s regular forces. More than any Overwatch leader had anticipated. 

And Ameile found herself dealing with considerable numbers immediately. Among the chaos quickly developing on the ground floor, she had to fight off enemies mostly with her fists and grappling hook, for bullets right now were too sprayable. 

One Los Muertos member with a bright white skull on her face managed to push Ameile down and attempt to bang the back of her head against the floor. Ameile’s visor didn’t provide nearly enough protection for something like this, so she felt every hard hit. She loosened her hook, let a few feet of wire some out, and quickly flinged it to wrap around the woman’s neck. She pulled hard enough to choke her to death in a few seconds. 

Tossing the body aside and getting up, Ameile rubbed the back of her head to at least ease the throbbing she felt. Both sides were getting more dispersed as casualties started to pile up, moreso on Sombra’s side. 

“Time to play our game,” Ameile heard Widowmaker say in her head. Was she really going to do this now?

She’ll regret this.

The first instance Ameile thought she saw Widowmaker again was up on one of the ledges, taking aim at her. Ameile got a quick crack shot off at the figure, turning out to be a gang member as he fell to the floor.

The second was when she saw someone charge at her with a knife, which Ameile quickly turned to her advantage, flipping it back into the stomach of what was a woman with a bright blue Mohawk. 

It continued that way for the next few minutes. Every instance Ameile was confronted with an enemy, she initially thought it was WIdowmaker coming after her. And only after killing the person would she see who it really was.

Neither side could keep this up forever.

“Doesn’t this all feel so good?” Widowmaker taunted in her head. “The thrill of each kill?”

“Stop hiding and show yourself!” Ameile shouted into the cavernous space, the sounds of constant gunfire obscuring her words.

“Where would be the fun in that?”

“Why would I give in if you have to hide behind other faces?”

Widowmaker went silent, and the sounds of bullets from both sides directed her attention. Continuously moving and hiding behind boxes and other metal equipment, taking out soldiers and gang members was distracting enough. But Ameile, for once, needed Widowmaker to appear again. Only for this nightmare to finally end.

And she got her wish.

Widowmaker appeared, unarmed, standing on a pile of boxes in the center.

“Here I am,” she dared. 

Ameile grappled up to the box and stared Widowmaker down, their faces inches apart. Lord knows what it must’ve looked like for any onlookers.

“So, are you here to finally accept your fate?” Widowmaker inquired.

“No,” Ameile sternly replied, wanting to end this by any means necessary. “I’m the one in control. I’m the one not giving in to my fears. You, you’re as good as banished.”

“You think you’re truly better than me? That you have control?” 

“I know I do!” 

“Go on then, shoot me!”

Ameile couldn’t take anymore. Real or not, she jabbed her rifle at the spot where the latex started diverging to show her chest. And pulled the trigger, giving off one crack.

Widowmaker didn’t flinch. Just giving off another evil smile.

“Now do you see? You can’t do anything that,” Widowmaker stopped, giving a face of wincing, delayed pain. She clutched the spot where Ameile aimed her gun, the center of her discomfort. She dragged up one hand to her face and felt shock she never thought possible.

Dark blue blood coated the surface of her palm, much darker than her skin.

“Quoi? Comment est-ce possible?” (How is this possible?) Widowmaker continued to look, stunned.

Ameile didn’t care how this worked. She gave a front kick to Widowmaker and she fell to the hard floor. Ameile followed and grasped the trigger before she even hit the ground. Landing on top of the blue woman, she continued to shoot at her navel, not taking any other chances in finding other weak spots.

Ameile remembered something from Fareeha’s songs.

Sometimes I freeze.

Sometimes I fight.

Ameile emptied her clip and reloaded, looking down at the figment below her. Widowmaker clutched her stomach, tried holding the blood coming out back in to no avail. Neither knew exactly how it was possible, or why now, but Ameile gave a smirk, similar to the one’s she gave after a Widowmaker kill. 

“It’s over. You have no power over me anymore,” Ameile proclaimed.

Ameile just stared at her other half, finally dying. But she could swear her skin was turning back to its normal white flesh color. And her eyes were reverting to the same shade of blue Ameile’s eye were. And tears were coming out of the creases.

“Bien fait cherie. Aller. Obtenez Sombra.” (Well done dear. Go. Get Sombra) 

With that last statement, Widowmaker’s head fell to the ground, her body starting to fade away. The woman left behind nothing more than a spray of bullet holes on the ground she lay.

This part of the nightmare was over.

“Ameile, are you okay?” Hanzo called over the earpiece. “I saw you firing at something.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ameile replied back. “Just taking care of an ambush.”

“Sosténlo justo ahí.” (Hold it right here) Two Los Muertos members stood behind Ameile, guns aimed at her head. She was prepared to make a maneuver, but one got knocked on the head from behind and the other was thrown into a set of boxes at the same time. 

And Lena stood triumphant in their places.

“Ameile!” Lena shouted as the two grabbed each other, trying to get to a safe spot. Lena noticed plenty of bullet holes on the ground where Ameile was. “What happened here?”

“Widowmaker,” Ameile got out, trying to maintain her speed with Lena. “She’s gone now.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I shot her, so yes.”

Lena and Ameile settled behind some heavy equipment, trying to calm themselves down from the fight. Only then did Lena comprehend what Ameile said.

“What ya mean you shot her? I thought she was in your head.”

“She was here, just like in Nuremburg. Maybe Angela’s meds started working, but I shot Widowmaker as she taunted me and she started bleeding.”

“Bleeding? But she’s not real,” Lena pointed out, briefly looking over their spot to get some shots off.

“That’s just what I saw,” Ameile got a shot off at one of the gang members in a walkway above them, getting her to keel over. “We need to move now and find Sombra.”

“Any idea where she’d be?”

“Probably holed up somewhere. Finding somewhere to escape when this all collapses.” 

“Look out!” Lena spotted a grenade dropped by Ameile’s legs, grabbed it, and threw it off to their left with enough time before it exploded. 

“Get moving!” Ameile shouted, the two women moved erratically around the main floor, easily dispatching whatever foes they came across with either bullets or physical force.

“Get to a stairwell!’ Ameile followed through with her idea. “There has to be lower levels here!”

Looking for anything resembling a stairwell or elevator, Lena spied one to their right and blinked over to it to make sure it was clear. But as she arrived at the door, a gang member armed with a rocket launcher emerged.

Lena knocked the man out, but not before he got the rocket off by his feet, killing him and sending Lena up into the air.

As Lena flew towards the opposite wall, Ameile wanted to activate her visor, to try and get a perfect shot to retrieve her with the grappling hook, but there was no time. She made her best estimate as to where Lena would end up as she fired the hook.

Dieu, please reach her.

As the hook was about to reach her, Lena disappeared in a burst of blue light. And the hook just fell on top of some boxes.

Oh no, Ameile thought. She can’t recall on me now.

Another burst of blue light occurred a few seconds later in the same spot Lena disappeared. She had returned, and she resumed her course heading towards the wall. 

Lena’s back stuck the hard cement and her body collapsed.

“Lena!” Ameile rushed over at the Brit’s crumpled body. She held a hand to her back the part in the most pain.

“Uuuuhhhh,” Lena moaned once she came to. “Guess I didn’t use enough juice.”

“I was gonna save you! If you didn’t recall on me,”

“It’s just a habit, love.”

“Hang on. Angela!” Ameile shouted into her earpiece. “Lena’s down! She was thrown against a wall!”

“On my way!” Angela replied back.

Ameile worked to hold Lena in her arms, making sure neither of them were in any line of sight of gunfire.

“Can you feel your feet?” Ameile asked out of worry.

Lena looked down her orange-clad legs at her feet. Her feet were in the same white sneakers with holes on the top her cousin mocked a few weeks ago. And she could see them moving around fine.

“Still in working order,” Lena replied, still wincing in pain, clutching her lower back. “Must’ve gotten a pretty bad bruise back there.”

“You’re lucky you’re not paralyzed.”

“That’s a bit much, you think?” Lena reassured her, trying to touch a foot to the ground, but felt a pain race up her leg. “Ow! Remind me to thank Satya for that shield of hers.”

Looking up, Ameile saw Angela flying overhead, her caduceus staff in hand. It gave off brief bursts of yellow light, giving brief heals to whoever she passed. She landed next to the two other women, trying to get a handle on the situation. 

“Alright, I’ll carry you back outside,” Angela ordered. 

“Hold on,” Lena dug through the pockets inside her jacket and pulled out a disc, same as the one she used before.

“An extra pulse bomb if you get in a sticky situation,” she offered Ameile.

“Merci,” Ameile put it inside the jacket’s right interior pocket. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“How daft. I’ve come back from much worse.”

“Lena,” Ameile couldn’t believe this was coming out of her mouth. “I love you.”

Lena looked up at her friend wide-eyed, amazed that Ameile finally said those words. Angela was not sure what to make of this. Just that Ameile was interrupting her planned procedures.

“Say that again,” Lena requested.

“I love you,” Ameile repeated, her head reaching out for the incapacitated woman. Lena gladly reciprocated by meeting her halfway, giving her a soft kiss. 

“I love you too,” Lena gave another quick peck. “Now go give Sombra hell!”

Ameile ran off to where the two originally planned to go. Lena gave out a breath of relief, knowing her lover would get the job done. Angela, meanwhile, still had a confused look on her face.

“What?” Lena asked the doctor. “I thought you knew about us.”

“Lena Oxton,” Angela pointed out. “You have the most bizarre array of lovers I’ve ever came across.”

Ameile rushed back to the stairway on the other side Lena tried getting to, but opted against that. Too closed of a space would make her an easy target. She spied a freight elevator, a better option. 

Hanzo dropped down from above as she was preparing to move on.

“Ameile, where are you going?” Hanzo tried getting her attention.

“I’m going for Sombra.”

“You need help?”

“No, she’s mine alone.”

“That’s what you said going after Siegfried and ended up breaking down.”

“This is different. There will be no distractions.”

“I’m sure I can help. One arrow to her head will,”

“I said I don’t need help!” Ameile snapped, forcing the archer to stop in his tracks as she faced him. 

“Look Hanzo,” Ameile tried explaining her mindset to him. “This is like those times you said you need to gain honor for yourself. This is my time to do that. To finally get rid of the last vestiges of Talon. To put my hauntings to rest at last. I’m sorry, but it has to be alone.”

“In that case, here’s an arrow,” Hanzo handed over a short arrow out of the quiver on his back, not caring which abilities it did.

“What am I supposed to do with this without a bow?” Ameile questioned. 

“Hand to hand fighting if needed.”

“Merci, I’ll keep it in mind,” Ameile put them in the left interior pocket. 

Hanzo was overcome by something inside. Maybe he felt he might never see her again, or wanted to wish her good luck, but he grabbed the Frenchwoman by the shoulders and reached in to kiss her on the lips. Ameile was completely caught unawares, and had in good mind to push him away once she felt his beard rub against her chin.

But she didn’t fight back. She closed her eyes and let Hanzo finish, obliging him in various lip movements.

“Oh, well,” Ameile felt flustered once Hanzo dragged his lips away.

“Sorry,” Hanzo tried apologizing. “I needed to get that out there.”

“Don’t be. I was wondering if you were gonna try something like that.” 

Hanzo felt cocky enough try for another one, but Ameile placed an index finger on his lips, urging him to stop.

“But any more will have to wait. Go, clear out the rest of this place.”

Ameile walked inside the freight elevator and pulled the door down, pushing a button for the lowest level possible. As it started to go down, she saw Hanzo starting to walk away, to get back into the fight, but turned around to try and get a last glimpse of her. Ameile simply blew a kiss at him before she went out of his sight.

The elevator went down slowly, yet Ameile maintained her position. Stoically standing, waiting for her stop. For once, her mind was clear of everything. Well, everything except one thing.

Sombra’s not getting away this time. 

As the elevator opened, Ameile found herself in a long corridor, with windows to her left giving a close-up view of the mountain the base rested on, and small rooms to her right. There was no one else down the hallway, but the deadly tension convinced her otherwise.

Sombra was down here. She had to be. 

And when they finally met, what would happen? No doubt she would love to take her down from her holier than thou mindset. Preferably with a bullet in her brain. 

But Ameile thought of something else. For someone who’s as keen as manipulating people as Sombra is, the only suitable way for her end would involve some manipulation on her part. And she knew what to do.

If it worked, kind of, on Gabriel, why not now?

Ameile activated her visor, trying to get a read on anyone. Looking above, she could see plenty of heat signatures through the walls, the two forces fighting each other. It was working properly, no doubt about that.

Then looking ahead, she saw a slender figure walk towards her. She turned the visor off to see who it was, but no one was there.

“Amiga, would you mind putting that gun down?” Sombra’s voice echoed. “It startles me.”

“Show yourself,” Ameile demanded. “I won’t until you do.”

After a few more seconds of silence, the air began to glitch the same purple as in the church this morning. Sombra revealed herself, but to Ameile’s horror, she looked more threatening than the glimpse of her face led on. Her body was covered in black armor with the same pulsing pink lining her face accenting the armor. She had silver lining the length of her arms and half a metal skirt around her waist. Some tubes also flowed from Sombra’s waist into her back, if she had to guess. And she carried a pink-lined minigun, her weapon of choice in battles like this.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Sombra nonchalantly said, making her way to Ameile. “Got some augmentations for my future quests. Ah, you did wear something special. So sharp, so dapper, so sexy, I don’t think my heart can take it! Why couldn’t you wear something like that with Talon?”

“Sombra,” Ameile lowered her rifle to her side, trying to maintain composure. “It’s been too long.”

“May I ask who I’m speaking to?”

Ameile decided to set her plan in action. If it backfired, there might be the chance she’d never come back.

“Widowmaker, of course,” she replied, in the best Widowmaker tone she could remember.

“Widowmaker? Is it really you?”

“Oui,” Ameile continued, trying to win over her trust. “The conditioning finally kicked back in during the fighting out there.”

“Wait, how do I know it’s really you?”

“You don’t. I don’t have blue skin, my eyes aren’t the right color, my heartbeat is that of a normal human’s, and I can still feel some emotions. But you’ll have to trust me.”

Sombra examined Ameile further, walking around for any trace of falsehood. The Frenchwoman’s outfit didn’t betray anything, as Sombra dragged a finger along the various creases. She remembered how Ameile turned on them as Overwatch stormed the Talon headquarters. And she had no reason to trust this woman in this state.

“Tu ne me fais pas confiance, mon ame?” (Don’t you trust me, friend?) Ameile tried reassuring. 

Sombra was convinced. Enough to carry out her plans. “Very will then, amiga. Follow me.”

Sombra lead Ameile down the hallway into one of the side laboratories. The double-swinging doors revealed a room with what looked like a table people use for bondage fantasies, surrounded by all matter of machines and measuring devices. Hardly enough room for more than one person to walk around in.

“You won’t believe how many favors I had to call to get all this equipment,” Sombra boasted, showing off the devices.

“What’s all this?” Ameile just had to ask, even if she knew the answer.

Sombra started turning the machines on, electricity pulsing into screens turning on and what looked like electroshock tools. “This is the start of what will fully bring you back. I tried finding other scientists that worked on you the first time around, ones you didn’t kill. Then I had a revelation. What use would relying on others do when I, someone with access to all the old Talon files, could do it myself? Reprogram you the way I want? How hard can it be, eh?”

Ameile just watched as Sombra made her way around the room, eagerly setting everything up, getting the devices calibrated. “It’ll just start with some electroshock, to make sure your personality is firmly in place. Can’t have Ameile coming back, can we? Once that’s done, we can flee here to some other country to finish everything else. Making your skin blue again, change your eye color, get your sniper senses back up to perfecton, the works. Maybe some other modifications, if you so desire?”

As Sombra tested the electroshock devices, Ameile tugged at something hidden inside her jacket.

“Sombra?”

“Si, Widowmaker?”

“Were you always this gullible?”

Before Sombra could have time to process, Ameile pulled out Lena’s pulse bomb from her jacket and tossed it in the center of the room, immediately jumping out through the double-swinging doors. 

Ameile got out just in time before the entire room exploded, throwing her down to the hallway floor. Bursts of fires and electricity crackled as glass from the windows fell to the floor. Ameile didn’t think she’d set the bomb to be that powerful, but anything to get rid of all those machines.

Looks like Widowmaker is dead for good, Ameile thought.

But looking back down to the floor, Ameile saw a device she must’ve missed. A small metal circle with three flaps.

A translocator.

A split-second later, Sombra materialized on top of the device. Her armor was covered in scorch marks, dents, and some ash. And any cheerfulness she had earlier about having her friend back was long gone.

“¡Joder traidor! AHHHH!” (You fucking traitor!) Sombra wailed, reaching a leg out to stomp Ameile, but the Frenchwoman caught it and bent the leg in an angle that forced Sombra to the floor. But the Mexican scooped up the translocator and tossed it down the hallway before Ameile got her in a submissive position. Her body dematerialized and reappeared a few meters away, now armed with her mini-gun raring to go.

Ameile quickly got up and ran into one of the other labs, a trail of bullets following her every step. Hiding in one particularly large room with more computer banks and a pair of robotic arms sticking from the ceiling, Ameile turned on her visor, determined not to let the other woman get any sort of advantage.

“You can’t hide in my environment!” Sombra challenged, her voice having entered the room. 

Ameile tried breathing slowly, to get a better handle of herself before the fight was due to go into another gear. Now that she thought about it, this was a poor choice of room to try and hide in. Amidst all these computers, Sombra could somehow find an upper hand.

Her fears were confirmed when, against some computer banks she rested against, streaks of pink emerged against the metal. Both behind and in front of her, the machines started to turn an upsetting shade of neon pink. And the air against Ameile began to glitch into the enemy’s form, her index finger running against the metal.

“Gotcha,” Sombra calmly said, with her gun aimed against the Huntress.

Ameile got a few shots off first, only denting Sombra’s armor further before grappling away, hooking onto the robotic arms. But as she retracted the line, the arms swung around with enough force to drop to unnerve her, dropping her to the ground.

“Never fight a girl with the latest tech,” Sombra mocked, making motions with her hands that corresponded to the motions of the arms. They reached down, following Ameile as continuous backed away in circles around the glowing pink computer banks, holding her rifle to keep them at bay.

“I can’t be the only handsy one around you,” Sombra continued to mock. 

Ameile’s visor found their weak points. Some tubes, wires, and joints near where they connected to the ceiling. Not enough time to snipe every one of them. In sub-machine mode, her rifle quickly let a spray aimed at the joints of the right one. Enough direct hits to take it offline. The same played out for the left arm, though her clip ran out during her bullet blast, leaving it deactivated enough. 

Ameile was prepared to make the last shot, to get the arm to finally stop, but she noticed Sombra making a run at her, and turned her attention. 

“Apagando las luces!” Sombra shouted jumping into the air, emitting a circle of purple static around her for a split-second, with the pink emitting lights blowing out, causing everything to turn nearly pitch-black, including the visor. Ameile tried turning it back on, but as she tried every button to activate any function, the visor didn’t respond. Damn EMP. The only traces of lights coming in were through the windows. Not early enough to help. 

Ameile reached inside her jacket to grasp at Hanzo’s gift to her.

Then, in the darkness, she felt herself getting tackled back out through the doors into the hallway they women were fighting in earlier, with Ameile ending up on her back and Sombra straddling her, grabbing the other woman by the neck.

“I will have Widowmaker back! You can’t deny me!” Sombra growled as she choked Ameile. “I’ll kill you if I have to. Then I’ll bring you back Frankenstein-style. Would you like that, perra?!” (bitch)

Suddenly, Sombra felt a sharp pain race up along her spine, the center of implant network. Reaching a hand along her back, she felt a long piece of metal protruding from between her shoulder blades. Painfully pulling it out, accompanied by the sounds of creaking metal on metal and, sparks, and some blood, she found the culprit.

A sharp-tipped metal arrow.

“An arrow?” Sombra pondered it, confused. “Is this the work of that archer who used to,”

Sombra was distracted enough for Ameile to make her move. She reached up to grab the other woman’s long braid, pulling her off herself down to the floor. Ameile straddled herself on top, grasping her left hand over Sombra’s mouth while her right tried to force Sombra’s fist clenched around the arrow to open. The Mexican’s free hand reached up to try and pry Ameile off of her, mainly by digging the built-in fingernails through the jacket fabric on her left arm into her skin.

Ameile felt the pain Sombra was causing, but didn’t stop. Her fingers were of equal strength against Sombra’s, but she could feel them start to give way as the hacker’s mouth was blocked. Even with the blood drawing from Sombra’s scratches, now starting to run down her arm, Ameile wouldn’t give up, the prize would be hers.

She would end this at last.

Ameile tightened her grip on Sombra’s head and knocked it against the floor, the pain causing her to loosen her grip on the arrow. The sniper immediately grasped at it, raising it in the air before bringing it down on the pink circle on the left shoulder. She pulled it out of the now darkened space immediately, reaching for one of the lines along her ribcage.

“No! What’re you doing?” Sombra shouted.

Ameile kept sticking the arrow against the surging pink lines along Sombra’s armor, destroying any semblance of hacking power she could manage. With each one, sparks crackled as Sombra’s power sources were going offline. She couldn’t work any more of her tricks now. Her legs, hands, and ending with her neck, Ameile wanted all semblance of pink of the other woman gone. With the arrow lastly planted against one of the power lines surrounding her neck, Sombra was on the verge of passing out, her systems used for hacking having become too engrained with her biological functions.

Ameile grabbed one of the pink metal plates embedded in Sombra’s head, the fingers of her gloves trying to get underneath what appeared to be fused to her scalp. Pulling on it hard, with Sombra’s head following, trying to fight against her former compatriot, Ameile could feel some space give way.

“No! NO! You can’t!” Sombra shrieked.

“Watch me,” Ameile calmly replied. 

Sombra brought her hands up to try and fight her off, but Ameile threw one of her boots against the Mexican, holding her down to the ground. The plate ran all the way to the back of Sombra’s head, too far engrained to all come out, but Ameile’s grasp was enough to start drawing blood.

With one final yell of strength, Ameile finally managed to break the plate, snapping in two places, with the part leading to the back of her scalp still intact, but fading in color.

“AAAAHHHHH” Sombra gave off a piercing scream, crumpling up onto the floor with her hands covering her scalp. Blood started oozing out where the plate was bolted in, too much for Sombra to contain with her hands. Ameile, seeing the hacker mastermind reduced to this sniveling husk, tossed the plate to the ground, pulled out a syringe with Ana’s healer from a pouch, and walked over. Sombra tried shifting herself out of the way, to no avail.

“Stop crying, this’ll help,” Ameile pulled away enough of the face armor to reach the neck, sticking the needle in and injecting.

“Commander,” Ameile spoke into her earpiece to Jack, extremely out of breath from her dismantling job. “This is . . . Ameile Lacroix . . . I have Sombra . . . she’s disarmed and not a threat.”

“Where are you?” Jack demanded.

“One of the . . lower levels . . . by some laboratories it looks like. . . Sombra’s bleeding out, so hurry!”

Ameile took more time to catch her breath, staring at the hacker. She wasn’t bleeding as much, but she still clutched her head, mumbling phrases to herself in Spanish too soft for the other woman to hear.

“You’re gonna have to speak up,” Ameile recommended. “Loud and clear for the authorities.”

“Ameile, why?” Sombra meekly got out. “We could’ve taken down everything. Seen the world how we wanted.”

“Well that’s where you’re wrong. I want to see the world safe, not having to deal with power-hungry people like you.”

Some bright lights shone through some of the doors, with some Overwatch troops shining flashlights. Ameile made a motion with her hands signaling it was okay to enter.

“And by the way,” Ameile whispered into Sombra’s exposed ear, “Nunca fuimos amigas.” (We were never friends)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack:
> 
> Salva Mea - Faithless  
> Freeze - Rush


	12. Out of the Cradle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter, where Ameile determines what her life ahead holds.

Sombra awoke in a darkened room, feeling her feet tied up to the chair she sat on. Her hands weren’t trapped by any means, so by instinct, she raised her left hand up, trying to get her light panels to appear from her finger tips.

That instinct briefly blinded her from what her physical condition was now. Her hand wasn’t covered in gloves, armor, or any protective covering. It was just her normal hand, though covered in gauze and bandages. The same could be said for her right arm. 

Desperate to escape, she closed her eyes tight and wanted her mind to use her powers. Invisibility, EMP’s, anything she could use.

Nothing. Sombra opened her eyes to she was still bound to the chair. 

Sombra dragged her hands around her body, feeling through the prisoner’s gown she found herself in. Her shoulders, legs, chest, and spine, she didn’t feel any of her cybernetic enhancements in place, just bandages.

She lastly dragged a hand along the left side of her head, with her fears finally confirmed. Just more bandages, much too thick to feel what was underneath them.

“Now don’t you look ridiculous with only half a head of hair,” the voice of Jack Morrison echoed as an overhead light turned on. He walked towards the chair opposite of Sombra, resting his hands on the back. “Years of hunting you down in and out of Overwatch lead to this.”

“What did you do?” Sombra cried out, continuing to try and make something happen with her hands. “Why can’t I do anything?”

“You passed out as we dragged your body from your base. And we kept you under sedation the entire flight back here to Gibraltar. Gave us time to study you. How your implants connected to your body. How they gave you your powers. How to remove them.”

“Remove them? You mean?”

“You were in surgery for 18 hours as our team of doctors worked to safely remove every single cybernetic enhancement from your body. See for yourself.”

Sombra, in her panic, went on finding where the bandage on her left arm started. Finding a loose end near her elbow, she unwound the gauze for 20 seconds to find Jack was right. Her arm had one visible scar running it’s length, and several scars ran along the palm of her hand down to the fingertips.

She then unwrapped the bandages covering her head, feeling the shaved half looking for the spot Ameile broke the plate. She could feel the skin covered by the plates, along with some odd bumps where the tech was bolted into her head. Feeling all the back to it’s rear, it was nothing but skin and fuzz.

“Don’t move too much or you might pop something,” another voice called out in the room. 

Ameile moved from behind Sombra into her field of vision. She was back to wearing her regular Overwatch uniform, and had a look on her face relishing in delight that her Talon comrade was finally captured. 

“Before I get into the nitty gritty with you, Ameile requested some words with you.” Jack explained. “And since she single-handedly captured you, I’ll give her that time.”

Ameile sat down in the chair across from Sombra, who was now more concerned with breaking her legs out of their restraints or trying to get the chair unbolted from the floor. Ameile found herself amused at these feeble attempts.

“Sombra, let me ask you something,” Ameile inquired from the struggling woman. “Let’s say you did win and you carried out your experiment turning me back into Widowmaker. What would you’ve done?”

Sombra didn’t immediately answer, just continuing to break free to no avail.

“I don’t know how far the bolts on that chair go, but they’re far enough down that you’d have to dismantle the floor to remove them. So I’ll ask you again. What would you’ve done?”

Sombra had finally given up trying to break herself out, but didn’t speak up, giving Ameile a stinkeye.

“We’ve uncovered enough of your schemes to put you away for a long time. Possibly the rest of your life. So you better start talking.”

“Well,” Sombra slowly started off, “amiga.”

“Non, you’ll call me by my proper Overwatch name.”

“Fine. Agent Lacroix, is it? I don’t know what your military rank is.”

“You know what my callsign is. It’s all over the Overwatch merchandise. Say it!”

“Well then,” Sombra finally submitted, bitterly “Huntress. Don’t get so pushy.”

“Thank you. Now what would you’ve done?”

“If my way of putting Widowmaker’s conditioning back into place worked, we most certainly would’ve fled further south, to my connections in Panama where the process would be finished. And you would be on the frontlines of my forces. Planning ground assaults on various government seats and corporations to finally,”

“I don’t give a fuck about your operations. You can tell all that to Jack here when I’m done. What I want to know is what other conditioning would you’ve done.”

“Other conditioning? I don’t understand.”

“I overcame Talon’s original programming so you must’ve come up with something different so I couldn’t break it again. What?”

‘Hmhmhm, how perceptive of you Huntress. I trust you remember how Talon altered your mind.”

“If by altered, you mean blanking my memories and emotions out completely, then yes.”

“I’ll say I would’ve done worse, warping parts of your mind to reduce you to nothing more than a withering scrap of nothing. No trace of humanity would be left in your body. I wouldn’t be as lenient as Talon was in giving you off-time, you would only be used for battle. Or, you know, other desires I or my followers might have.”

The implications of the last statement caused Ameile to briefly get up out of her chair and punch Sombra in the left side of her face. The Mexican coughed a few times and clutched her sore spot before continuing.

“Weren’t you worried about something popping?”

“Let me tell you something, petite salope,” (little bitch) Ameile snarled with a finger pointed at her foe’s face.

“Ameile, control yourself,” Jack tried restraining the Frenchwoman. “If you have anything more to say, at least be civil about it.”

Ameile breathed in and out, managing to regain her composure, while Sombra gave a smirk, eager to try and get under her skin again.

“Now you listen Sombra. Widowmaker is dead and gone. Nothing more you can do about it. Suppose that means you don’t have anyone to trust left in the world. Here you are thinking you could just recreate her, and just do whatever you wanted with your monster, but I know for sure I would’ve found a way back out.” 

“Hmph, Ameile Lacroix would’ve been deader than Gabe, I would’ve made sure of that.” 

“Oh you don’t know Ameile Lacroix at all. Or what Overwatch has done for me. I carry the weight of all the people I’ve killed; nothing can change that. But I have worked my ass off trying to find a state of peace, fighting for good, and finding some kind of atonement in all this. Well, it’s finally over. Talon can be buried and I’ll never have to see your face again. Jack, you can take over from here.”

Ameile got up and left the interrogation room, as Sombra gave her a mocking slow-clap, meeting the rest of the onlookers from the other side of the one-way window. Lena, Winston, Aleksandra, Satya, and Ana were among the onlookers.

“I must say Sombra,” Jack took over again, “you’re pretty good at hiding your tracks, but we uncovered nearly everything about you. I emphasize nearly, because the only thing we haven’t been able to find is your birth name. Care to tell why that is?”

Sombra avoided eye contact for a brief moment. The one secret she planned to take to her grave. Because if the wrong people knew, well she’d be a dead hacker.

“So they can’t find me,” Sombra meekly said.

“They? And who are they?”

“The one’s who discovered my early activities in Dorado. The reason I left my birth name behind and became Sombra. They’re the ones at the very top, who control everything. That’s what this was all for, to get rid of them. So I could always be safe. Never have to live in fear that I’ll be found out”

“Rest assured, the U.N. is the one at the top. No one else.”

“That’s what they’d want people to think!”

“What’s she yammering on about?” Lena asked, from where Sombra and Jack couldn’t hear the rest of the conversations.

“She’s convinced there’s a conspiracy against her and the common folk,” Ameile explained. “I remember her going on and on about the Ministries in Oasis, that they’re part of the ones on top. That’s why she goes by Sombra, not her real name.”

“So what, is she going to prison now?” Aleksandra brought up.

“Jack plans to use her to find the other splinter sects she has no control over. Clean up the last vestiges of Talon once and for all. And even then, we have to have a special place made for her with limited tech she could use.”

“Just send her somewhere in Siberia then. I’m sure the Russian government would no problem using a gulag for her.”

“By the way Aleksandra,” Ameile remembered. “You owe me something, seeing as I won your bet.”

“That’s true. What is it?”

“Say I didn’t harm Katya.”

Aleksandra was taken aback by the odd request. “Is that all?”

“Yes, it is.”

“You know there are plenty of other things I could do instead,”

“No, I just want you to say that. Because it’s the truth.”

“Fine, fine, you didn’t harm Katya. I swear I could’ve done something better, like do your laundry, clean your room, help your workout regiment.”

“Maybe someone of your size could take a few pointers from me.”

“Ameile, if I may break up what’s happening here,” Winston butted in, wanting to request something of her, “would you follow me?”

“Is it that important?”

“This interrogation will be going on for a while. I’m sure you could come back to this and not miss a thing.”

So Ameile followed Winston away from the interrogation rooms down to his lab, being silent the whole way there. Upon arrival, the gorilla’s workspace was scattered with equation-ladled chalkboards with various new devices he was working on, mainly how to make his force fields and tesla gun more powerful. And the place was decorated in images celebrating Overwatch’s past and current achievements, centered around ones where Winston was officially accepted on the team and where Overwatch was reinstated.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Winston expressed his gratitude, “for at least not making me regret having you out in the field. You certainly proved Jack wrong. And I think you proved any doubt in this organization wrong too.”

“Merci, Winston,” Ameile replied, delighted at that bit of appreciation.

“There’s also something I wanted to give you,” Winston handed over some manila folders on one of the tables. Each one had a name on the tab and what looked to be many print outs of documents and photos in each one.

“What are these?” Ameile asked once she had them in her hands.

“Those are the rest of the people who worked on making Widowmaker.”

Before Winston finished his statement, many emotions struck Ameile at once. Happiness, sadness, muted anger, confusion, but they all coalesced into an elated sensation.

“How did you,”

“Going through the rest of Sombra’s extensive databases isn’t hard when there’s a whole division working on it. If you had continued with your secret killings, these would’ve been your next targets.”

“Winston, I don’t know what to say.”

“Do with them what you will. Think of it as a special reward for all your hard work. At least don’t make me regret giving this info to you.”

“Merci beaucoup.”

 

“So doctor, what do you think?”

It had been a few days since Sombra was brought in, but that wasn’t what occupied Ameile’s mind most of the time. What she really wanted to know was how, in the heat of the battle at Sombra’s headquarters, she was able to shoot Widowmaker dead when she couldn’t before. She knew the apparition wasn’t physically there, but she could still recall the look of shock on Widowmaker’s face at the blood on her hand. Along with a why for all the specific instances of appearing.

Ameile was in Angela’s office again, waiting for the good doctor to share more test results. Dr. Ziegler was behind the desk sifting through the files, and even then, she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of things.

“I can’t give you a definite answer since we weren’t tracking anything in your head the moment you say happened. And psychology isn’t my strong suit,”

“Just spit it out,” Ameile demanded.

“Okay then. From what I gathered from your medical reports and whatever info you gave me, here’s my best hypothesis. This failsafe you claim Talon put in your head obviously wasn’t anything physical, more like a hidden mental conditioning. And I hate to sound old-fashioned here, but I suppose it was just mental perseverance.”

“Perseverance?” Ameile sounded confused, and a bit let down. “You’re saying I needed to believe in myself?”

“If that helps. Obviously there were plenty of other factors at work. Your medication, the stresses of battle, whatever you were feeling in that brand new suit of yours,”

“But that doesn’t explain everything. The times I was having the nightmares, when I was seeing Widowmaker talk to me. Why those times?”

“Let me ask you something about a theory I have. These nightmares, did any of them occur after sexual activity?”

Ameile felt embarrassed to answer. The doctor peeping into her private life like that. Yet, it was something Ameile needed to be certain of too. “Sometimes.”

“How many?”

“Twice, at least.”

“Were any of them with Lena?” Angela giggled to herself.

“That’s not funny.”

“If you can mock my relationships, I think I’m entitled to mock yours too. But in all seriousness, were any nightmares that weren’t after sex?”

“Of course, mostly when I wasn’t by myself.”

“Okay, I think that explains it,” Angela confidently said. “It’s most likely the failsafe trying to break down your relationships, making you feel isolated when surrounded by people who care for you.”

“But what about the times in person?”

“The failsafe must’ve been so close to taking over that Widowmaker would openly show herself to you. And, I’d imagine with a few more of the right kills, it would’ve gotten a real latch on your mind.” 

So she was right, Ameile thought. If I killed Siegfried back then, she would’ve taken over. It led Ameile to just look down at the office floor, thinking about the bullet she avoided.

“How have your sessions with Zenyatta been coming along?” Angela continued.

“Well. When I told him my visions and nightmares have practically ceased, he commended me for cutting out toxic portions of my life.”

“And I can say the same. Come back in two weeks for another checkup. If your psyche maintains the same level of stability, I can say you’re on your way to a full recovery.” 

“What about the medications?”

“I’d recommend you stay on them until I can be certain. But if what I think is happening is true, we should be able to wean you off them in due time.”

“Merci, Dr. Ziegler. Is that all?” the Frenchwoman got up from her chair to leave.

“Yes Ameile. You are dismissed. And do at least try to make your appointments from now on. Now that we’re so close.”

As Ameile walked down the corridors and stairways back to her quarters, she felt much more at ease. A full recovery. What a sound to her ears. No more worrying if she’ll go crazy. No more nightmares. No more bickering from her teammates if she’s well enough. And as she entered her personal quarters, with the Gibraltar sun shining through, she found herself filled with satisfaction.

Ameile lounged in her desk chair, briefly admiring the décor she set up inside. Not as crazy as Hana’s or Lena’s room, but suited the homely desire she wanted. There were some posters hanging on what open space the walls had. One was an official “Huntress” poster done as part of the new Overwatch’s marketing campaign. Another was of a ballet dancer in pale white makeup and a frilly tutu with one leg up against all black. And some others were of places in France, mainly Paris streets, and one of her hometown, Annecy, nestled between some mountains and next to a lake. The suit Ameile bought in Mexico City was hanging off of one of the dresser’s handles. Still with the tears and roughage from her fight with Sombra, as she made a mental note to have it repaired for the next time she wore it to battle. And on the desk, Ameile had a framed picture of her with Gerard. The one Lena used during the Widowmaker interrogation sessions, where they were dressed up as ballet dancers at a costume party.

Ameile took some time to admire it, as she would do when she was alone. He was a few inches taller, had a mess of hair somewhere between brown and black, brown eyes, and a not-so protruding jawline which occasional stubble. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what he’d look like before her. 10 years older, obviously, so would his hair start turning grey? Or start going bald? He would’ve been in his late 40’s now, so his skin might be saggy. Or start getting splotches. But still, she recognized him as the man she once loved. And still would’ve loved.

But the image faded, of her own volition, and Ameile turned her attention towards Winston’s gift.

She grabbed the folders left lying on the desk, dragging her fingers along the tops, the tips touching the various names. Tomislava Milosevic, Daniel Solos, Tor Abrahamsen, Natali Sewick, and many others. All this information in her possession, what she finally wanted. Addresses, occupations, family relationships, lists of past Talon duties. Details Sombra or whoever was sent to kill them would use to heir advantage. Details she herself could use.

What in God’s name would she do with all this?

“Ameile?” a voice in the open doorway got her attention. She looked over to find Hanzo, waiting for permission. “May I enter?”

“Of course you can.”

“So,” Hanzo looked around, admiring the décor. “You have one of the single rooms, huh?”

“Your quarters aren’t like this?”

“Don’t have quarters to begin with. I’ve slept with the other recruits down in the shared sleeping area.”

“Hmm, awkward.”

“Who is this?” Hanzo made his way to the desk, staring at the photo.

“That’s Gerard.”

“Oh. And why are you two dressed up?”

“It’s from an old Overwatch party Gerard invited me too. In some ballet uniforms. That picture was used when they captured Widowmaker and interrogated her. And I’ll say, it did have quite the affect on her.”

“He certainly is handsome,” Hanzo complimented. “Why’s this one displayed?”

“There aren’t many pictures of him left, but rest assured, I do have copies of the ones I could find. I just like that one as a reminder of what we used to have.”

“You two seem happy.”

“Why would I be married to him if I wasn’t?” Ameile replied with some snark, noticing how close Hanzo got making his way over to the desk. “I take it you came for some reason other than talking about him?”

“Of course. And it has to do with the Shimada clan.”

“You finally figured out what to do with it?”

“No. I’m actually more lost than ever. And I’ve had a change of heart.”

“So what are you gonna do?”

“Join Overwatch.”

Ameile was struck by the decision. “Really?”

“Well, not full-time. I went over what I wanted with Commander Morrison, and we came to an agreement similar to that woman who also works for Vishkar. I still have duties to the clan, and Morrison feels I could be of some use in that part of the world.”

“Have you told anyone else yet?”

“You’re the first.”

“Oh, what an honor. Why me?”

“I have to say, in the times we worked together, for good and bad, it has been an honor fighting by your side. As Widowmaker, the deadliest woman in the world, or you now as Huntress, Overwatch’s rising star. The woman who singlehandedly took down Sombra. It makes me hopeful that those, like you and I, who were once lost in their lives, can find the right way back.”

Ameile found comfort in the archer’s words, having made such an impact on him. She certainly looked forward to working with him again, his skills with only a bow and arrow were clearly superior to the other Overwatch snipers she helped train. Maybe the equal of her own, she wasn’t completely sure. But she was more than willing to find out later.

“What are those?” Hanzo’s attention was drawn to folders Ameile had rested on her lap. She held them up for him to see better.

“Winston found the rest of the people who worked on Widowmaker. And gave me their files to look through.”

“What are you gonna do with them?”

“Keep them, I suppose.”

“You’re not thinking about,”

“Oh Dieu no, I’ve had enough revenge for one lifetime. Still, I’d like to pay these people a visit. See what they’re up to, find out if they’ve really changed their ways. And I’ll forgive them. That is, if I’m satisfied, but I won’t kill them.”

“Excellent. Revenge is a path that leaves a scorched earth.”

“You’re starting to sound like Zenyatta.”

“Well spewing philosophies comes naturally, given all my world travels and the stories my father used to me.”

Ameile gave a brief chuckle, noticing the way the Hanzo looked at her. He had the same look in his eye from when he comforted her back in Nuremberg. He wasn’t here just to say what his next plans were. This might’ve been some sort of goodbye before he headed back to Japan.

“I’ll give you some more time to yourself,” Hanzo said, preparing to make his way out of the room. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before I leave.”

“Hey Hanzo?” Ameile caught him before he was out of her sight.

“Yes?”

“I’ve been giving it some thought, and yes.”

“Yes to what?”

“I’d like to visit Hanamura sometime. And I would like to get to know you better, seeing as how we might work together again soon.”

Hanzo gave a brief chuckle to himself, happy at the thought. Then his laughs started to escape him.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just imagining Genji’s reaction when I tell him.”

“Tell him what?”

“That he’s wrong. I’m not gonna die alone,” and the archer ran off. 

“Hanzo, you get back here!” Ameile shouted as she ran after him.

 

Snow was lightly falling in the Pere Lachaise cemetery. It had fallen much heavier before, so the paths leading to different spots weren’t properly cleared. And the tree branches alternated between having snow line the tops and covered in ice.

Ameile was back in front of Gerard’s grave, with Lena standing a few feet away, giving her some personal space she requested. The Frenchwoman stood with the edges of her boots sinking into the snow, wearing a black coat with pink lining along the collar, edges, and belt, and a purse slung on her left shoulder. Lena wore a coat with fur lining the hood, but opted to wear a winter hat instead. It didn’t stop her from shivering though.

“Bonjour cher, it’s Ameile again,” she started off, her typical manner of speaking to the gravestone. “Some crazy things have happened since that last time I was here. So I should give you the whole story.

So there was this other man I was seeing, Siegfried Paulis, an ex-Talon agent. Met him an arrondissement away from here actually. And he promised me I could get revenge on the people that turned me into Widowmaker. But of course, that wasn’t the whole story.

The people I did kill were certainly involved, but changed their ways. Siegfried was just using me to clean up dissenters of this woman called Sombra, a hacker from Mexico. I used to work with her in Talon.

We eventually brought Siegfried in, after I shot him in the leg beyond all repair. Then we went after Sombra in Mexico City, where I personally stopped her by . . . ripping some metal out of her head. It’s a long story explaining how she worked, but she’s in our custody now. And soon, with every bit of her data in her possession, the last bits of Talon’s existence will be eliminated.

Your lifelong task will finally be complete.

Dr. Ziegler and the omnic monk Zenyatta are still helping me take care of my mental state. But my episodes have been becoming much less frequent. I don’t see Widowmaker at all anymore and my dreams about the people I killed have become fewer. Ziegler said I should make a full recovery soon.

There’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell. Because there’ve been two people in particular besides those I mentioned who’ve helped me a lot. The first one was Hanzo Shimada. He’s part of a yakuza family you might’ve known about. Like me, he’s had to do some things he isn’t proud of and he’s trying to make amends. He helped me through an episode and I’m sure he’s attracted to me. He even invited me to his ancestral home in Japan, and I’m going to take him up on that offer.

The other,” Ameile motioned Lena to join her, which she obliged, “is Lena Oxton.

“I’ve been here before, don’t need to introduce,” Lena complained.

“Let me have this,” Ameile whispered before redirecting herself to the gravestone. “I remember you telling me about her when she was recruited to be part of the Slipstream project. And you’d be proud of the agent she’s become. She got some, ahem, weird powers from the Slipstream. But they allow her to be one of our most effective agents. 

She’s also one of the most kind, loving, funny people I’ve ever met. I’m proud to call her my best friend and lover.”

“Don’t think he needs to hear that part,” Lena urged her.

“If most of the team knows, he deserves to know too,” Ameile rebutted, turning her attention back to the stone. “Gerard, you will always be the first true love of my life. But, I suppose even you know there are things a dead man can’t do. I’ll try to live my life as happily as I know you’d want me to. And I’ll still fight your good fight, since there’s likely to be other threats in the world.

Adieu Gerard. Je reviendrai bientôt.” (I’ll visit again soon.)

As Ameile bid her last farewell to the gravestone, with her hands in her coat pockets, she offered an arm for Lena to wrap her’s around. She complied, the two walking towards the cemetery exit, but Lena had a bit of a sour look on her face.

“So, where does that leave us?” Lena asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You just said you’d like to spend more time with Hanzo, seeing as you’re both wrecks with years of emotional baggage to unload. Figure you have a lot more in common with him than me.”

“Lena,”

“I get it, I get it, you need some kind of male romance in your life. Sorry I don’t like cock as much as you do.”

“Lena, you’re getting carried away.”

“Why would I think I could have a real chance with you? You, an ex-ballerina all dapper and suave, couldn’t really love someone from the rough and tumble of London.”

“I told you I love you back in Mexico.”

“Oh, you were just saying that cause I was hurt.” 

“Why would I let anything you said stand in the way of what we have?”

Lena stopped rambling once she realized Ameile was being sincere. “What are you getting at?”

“I think it’s best for me to keep all the people who cared for me over this time close in some capacity, so there’s no chance of lapsing. Angela and Zenyatta will continue doing what they’ve done, Hanzo would obviously be some kind of confidant, not sure how big a role yet, but some.” Ameile proceeded to shot Lena a sultry look before continuing. “And then there’s you, Lena Oxton.” 

“Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

“I’d very much like you to continue being my emotional support. Caring for me when I feel down in whatever way I’d like. If that’s what you’re thinking.” 

“Does that include being your girlfriend?”

“We can arrange something like that cherie,” Ameile reached in to give the Brit a kiss on the lips. They held on long enough to feel some warmth in their faces before breaking off.

“So here’s another thought I had about you,” Ameile said as they exited the cemetery and walked northward on the Boulevard de Menilmontant. “Given what you told me about your attraction to Widowmaker, does that mean you thought about me when you dated other people?”

“That might be a bit too much to ask for.”

“Like that Emily you mentioned. Was there ever a time you were thinking about me when you two,”

“And that’s where I stop you.”

“What for? I’ve told you about my past relationships.”

“And I’ll tell you about mine in due time.” Lena reached for a peck on Ameile’s lips. “Right now, I want it to just be about us.”

“Reasonable enough,” Ameile replied as she pulled out her music listening device out of her purse. She put an earbud in her right ear and scrolled through it to the song she wanted.

“Here, put this in,” Ameile offered the other earbud, which Lena put in her left ear.

“What is it?”

“Some of the music Fareeha recommended to me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“That band she likes, I tried listening to some of their other music. Most of it’s too weird for me. But the first one’s she showed me, I like.”

Ameile pressed play. Lena got hooked in immediately from the opening bassline, slightly bobbing her head, but stopped when Ameile looked back at her, not making any comments about the music or either’s enjoyment of it.

“So, where do you want to go now?” Lena asked. “Not sure HQ will miss us for a few days.”

“How about we walk down to some venues I used to perform at? Maybe some people I used to know still work there. And along the way, I can tell you more about of the history of Paris. Unlike your ramblings in Glasgow, these will be true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack:  
> King of Pain - The Police  
> You Make It Easy - Air & Beth Hirsch  
> Out of the Cradle - Rush
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, enjoying, and making this my most popular story yet. I've been going through some mentally draining stuff while writing the last few chapters, mainly trying to find a writing job, the holiday season, and just the general toxicity in the fandom right now. And I imagine by reading through this whole story, you know where I stand on certain issues (not naming any names). I obviously have other ideas for long stories, but they require a lot of planning out beforehand, so I'm just gonna stick to one-offs or short ones I had in mind for the time being. Thanks again!!


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